My Son Neal
by colakirk
Summary: A year in the life of a young 13 year old Neal Caffrey. Mother/Son/Father. AU. Warning: This fic contains spanking. Don't like, please don't read.
1. Chapter 1

Warning: This fic will contain spanking of a teenager. If you don't like, please don't read.

Please be warned: This is an Alternate Universe Fiction

**MY SON NEAL**

"Neal." Peter spoke in a soft, caring tone. "Look at me Neal." After a long moment, Neal lifted his eyes away from the chaos taking place in the room and focused on Peter. "Neal, Fermez vos yeux et vos oreilles couvrir une petite. Confiance en moi." Neal continued staring at the agent who stood firm and certain, two qualities far removed from the feelings the young boy felt. Neal was beyond terrified and had to dig deep to indeed trust the man who was standing across the room pointing a gun surely in his direction. But the frightened child did as the agent asked, almost on autopilot as he closed his eyes and reached his hands up to cover his ears. Neal then promptly drifted off to a place that was far away from the chaos of the room, from the terrifying position he found himself currently in and instead into a land of picnics and fishing trips, of family excursions to the city's museums and art galleries, to a warm room of movies with popcorn and soda, to crossing over New York Harbor in a ferry with the chilly autumn breeze blowing in his face, to Christmas time with delicious food, singing and lots of holiday cheer. He found the place he always wanted to be in and his brain made a subconscious decision to stay there forever.

Eleven months earlier….

-W-C-

I (love) Italian.

Peter held the photo in his hands and nervously dialled LaPorchetta, his favourite Italian restaurant. In actuality, he'd only been to LaPorchetta once, and that was for a work function but it really had left a good impression and he knew it was the place to take Elizabeth. He'd met her three weeks earlier when he was investigating a theft at a gallery downtown where she was the assistant manager. He had interviewed her after the robbery and then returned a couple of days later for a more official statement. He could have had one his junior agents do the leg work but he was instantly smitten with the beautiful brunette with mesmerising blue eyes. He was desperate for the first date to be perfect but it was possibly going to be at the expense of him having a stroke. Trying to get the final details perfect was turning him into a disgraceful nervous wreck.

-W-C-

Agent Burke pulled up outside Elizabeth's downtown gallery as promised on Friday evening at 6:30pm. He had sat in his car one block away for almost half an hour waiting for the official pick-up time to tick over. He wasn't going to take a chance of being gridlocked on his way to this date – unfortunately he'd had previous experience in that department and that particular date was doomed from the beginning.

"Hi Peter." El jumped into the passenger seat looking amazingly perfect for someone having spent the day at work. Peter immediately had doubts to his own appearance. He had changed his shirt and sprayed on deodorant but maybe he should have gone with a second set of clothes and a shower. Damn! Too late.

"Hi Elizabeth. You have a good day?"

"Yes. A bit slow but that's okay. Gave me time to thrash out some ideas I have for my own business I'm working on starting up."

Peter pulled the Taurus out into the traffic and headed towards LaPorchetta.

"Your own business? That sounds exciting."

-W-C-

Peter downed the final morsel of his mouth-watering cannelloni and stared at the beautiful woman across the table that he had just shared an amazing meal with. Life couldn't get any more perfect than it was at that very moment and he was eager to savour every moment. Picking up his glass of red, and pointing it towards his gorgeous date, he asked, "Shall we toast to this splendid evening, Elizabeth."

"Of course." El picked up her glass and clinked it against his.

Peter's smile grew wide on his face. "How about we toast to many more incredible evenings like this one?"

"Well I was going to say let's toast to World Peace but unless you've seen Miss Congeniality you may not get it so lets go with yours." El chuckled when she saw Peter's expression go from disappointment, to confusion and finally to relief as he realised she was only joshing with him.

_She's beautiful, smart, articulate and has a sense of humour. Just perfect._

-W-C-

Peter pulled up in front of his date's Brooklyn address. He'd done some research and knew where the house was already but let Elizabeth guide him home in any case. _Don't want her thinking I'm a stalker!_

"Wow, great place, Elizabeth," Peter commented as he walked El to the front door.

"I like it here. Just far enough out not to feel too busy and close enough to work that I don't waste half my day in traffic." El unlocked the front door and spun to her companion in time for Peter to lean down and kiss his date goodnight.

"Thank you for the finest evening I've had in a very long time, Elizabeth."

"Thank you, sweetie. Me too. And let's also remember to thank the thief who raided our gallery last month. Perhaps he should get a reduction on his sentence for bringing us together?"

"Maybe. It's worth serious consideration!" Peter turned to walk back to his car when suddenly had a scary thought and asked before he could stop himself. "This is a big place for just one person. I'm almost too frightened to ask but I won't be able to stop thinking about it if I don't…You don't live here with your mother by any chance?" Peter had one disastrous relationship fail due to the girlfriend's over-bearing mother that lived in the same house.

"No, just me and," El paused, she'd have to tell him eventually, "… my son Neal."


	2. Chapter 2

"We met in Paris when I was in my early twenties." El had her arm looped through Peter's elbow as they walked together along the banks of the river. It was perfect weather for a January afternoon. The sun was shining, the air was bone cold and El got to snuggle even closer to Peter after he wrapped his heavy overcoat around the two of them as they made their way back to the art gallery.

"I was in the middle of an internship with a New York design firm when I applied and was accepted into an exchange program in France." Finding a cozy park bench to sit on, El continued with her story after Peter repositioned his coat entirely around her shoulders. "René returned with me to the states at the end of the program. We moved in, got married, René became an American Citizen. He transferred into NYPD." El's recollections took on a less than upbeat tone. "René's job as a cop was only a means to an end. He was super bright. In fact, the most intelligent man I'd ever met. Plus, he was incredibly charismatic. I was smitten and quickly fell in love. Sadly I was also blinded by his charms and couldn't see the writing on the wall. I guess I got caught up in his outgoing qualities and forgot to see what was truly important – what he was like as a man on the inside and what he was like as a friend. I fell pregnant with Neal a couple of months after the wedding and it was during the pregnancy that the first cracks became obvious to me. I gradually uncovered his less than ideal qualities and his illegal activities became more transparent with late night call outs, secret meetings down in the basement and phone calls that were for his ears only. By the time Neal was born, I was totally aware of who and what he was. Too late though. I had a new born and realistically, René was the only thing between me and the bread line. So I turned a blind eye to his corrupt activities and concentrated on bringing up a child."

Peter pulled El in close. He hadn't expected their lunch date to turn into a therapy session and most likely neither had El. But it seemed El was happy to get it all off her chest. Prior experience had taught her not to wait to bring up these skeletons well into the relationship. Peter for his part was content just to listen. He was clueless how to respond anyway so he remained silent and lent a caring ear.

"René was killed in the line of duty on Neal's second birthday. Amazingly, it had nothing to do with his underworld activities. That night he was called out to a teenage birthday party after some neighours reported the kids getting out of hand. He walked in totally unaware that one of the guests had a loaded pistol and was high on cocaine. He was shot three times through the chest. He didn't make it through the surgery."

"El I'm so sorry."

"It's fine now. Although it wasn't an easy time for me when it happened. While I knew he was not a good man, I found it very difficult contemplating a future on my own, bringing up a son that would never have a father. Neal coped well though. Too young to really even miss his dad. He wasn't even aware he'd had a father until he started school and the kids talked about their dads. I answered questions. Kept it pretty simple. 'Dad was a cop but he died when you were a baby.' As he got older, Neal stopped asking which suited me. We did alright in the end. Luckily for us, René had a life insurance policy, something he managed to get right, and between that and his payout from the department I was able to buy this house outright."

El stood up, ready to continue on their journey back to the gallery. "I was young and immature when I fell in love with René. If I had my time again I'd like to think I'd pass him over but I know that I couldn't. I wouldn't change anything in the world that may stop me from having Neal. He is an amazing boy. He's smart and witty and I love him with all my heart. And," El paused, unsure of herself, "and he's not his father's son but René will always be a part of him."

"I'd love to meet him." Peter ignored the last statement, shelving it for further investigation at a later date.

"Why don't you come around for dinner tomorrow night?"

"That sounds like a great plan." Peter swung El's arm in big arcs as they walked. A wonderful feeling passed through his body. Life was so great. "So, Neil as in Neil Armstrong. You were a big fan of space exploration Elizabeth?"

"For sure I was. Exploring space was, and will continue to be a very inspiring adventure in our history but, in this case, nothing so grand. It's just Neal, …as in seal."

-W-C-

Peter was carrying the dishes to the table, closely followed by El when he caught a flash of something out of the corner of his eye. He hadn't heard the door open or close but evidently, El had. "Neal, honey." El shouted towards the stairs.

"Yes, Mom?" A younger voice called back.

"Come here a minute please, Baby."

Neal placed his satchel on one of the stair treads and descended into the living area. He wasn't overly surprised to find a man standing in the living room. Throughout the years his mom had brought home various dates. Most of them turned out to be losers and his mom quickly gave them the boot. Occasionally though, she'd be onto a winner but then the Neal factor would enter into the equation and he suspected there wasn't a man in New York strong enough to survive a relationship that involved him. Neal knew from an early age, he was a deal breaker. The young boy walked up to the two adults.

"Peter this is my son, Neal. Neal this is Agent Burke."

The young kid held his hand out, and with a dazzling smile said, "Pleased to meet you Agent Burke."

Peter didn't care about the fake smile. It had been a long time since a young person had actually looked him in the eye while speaking and it usually came out no more than a grunt anyway. This boy was both articulate and confident. "Pleased to meet you, Neal." Peter stared at the young boy before him. Damn the kid looked like his mother. Striking blue eyes, dark brown hair, and a sweet baby looking face. El had said he was thirteen. Peter wouldn't have guessed he was a day over ten.

"Dinner will be ready in ten minutes, Baby Seal."

"No thank you Mam'ma. I'm good."

Peter watched curiously as Neal began to head back towards the stairs. It appeared that El was more than prepared to let the child leave. _Interesting._

"Neal?" The young boy turned at the sound of Peter's voice. "You're going to join us for dinner?"

Neal couldn't tell if it was a question or a statement although he expected from the authoritative tone it was the later.

"I'm not really hungry Agent Burke but it sure was nice meeting you." Neal made another move towards the steps.

"I'm looking forward to having a little chat Neal. Go get washed up. I believe your mom said dinner would be ready in ten minutes. Don't waste too much time."

No confusion that time, definitely an order! Neal raised his eyebrows and headed up for a quick shower finding the man in the living room a little more intriguing than his mother's usual dates.

-W-C-

Nine and a half minutes later, Neal returned in dress pants, a button down shirt and tie. Peter was impressed, again. The kid could knot a tie _and_ dress himself. Maybe there was hope after all for Generation I.

Neal pulled a chair out for his mother and sat down only after both adults were seated. The trio wasted no time in serving themselves to the delicious smelling lamb and vegetable casserole and soon after, the pleasant dinner banter began.

"So Agent Burke…"

"Peter… Please call me Peter."

Neal looked over at El for approval and after a nod from his mom the young boy continued, "Peter, what division do you work in at the Bureau?"

"I head the White Collar Division."

"Well that sounds like a whole lot of fun. What exactly do they do in the white collar department?"

Peter felt in his gut that the boy was just playing around and was already somehow in possession of that information. "Oh you know, drug trafficking, mafia, murderers and various other violent crimes." Peter thought he'd test the waters with his young counterpart.

"Interesting." Neal swallowed another mouthful of the casserole. "I wonder what organized crime is up to these days?" He looked at Peter over the top of his glass. "Maybe they have their hands full with counterfeiting, art theft and I believe bond forgeries are rampant? Organized Crime must be a crazy place to work. Luckily you're in White Collar otherwise you could be a very busy man."

"Yes, young Neal. Luckily for me." How did a kid know so much about his line of work? Most kids would say White Collar was the name of a rock band if asked.

Neal continued to chat with the adults throughout dinner. He talked about baseball, movies, current events and interesting things to do around the city on weekends. Peter suspected the subjects were purposefully chosen to suit the guest's interests and were designated 'safe topics' for discussion. Peter's thoughts about this interesting child were darting all over the place when Neal finally asked, "May I be excused Mam'ma?"

"You had enough, Baby Seal?"

"Yes thank you. It was exquisite. How about I cook for us tomorrow night?"

"I'll be looking forward to it."

Neal collected all the dishes from the table and took them to the kitchen. Peter could hear tinkering behind the door and sounds equivalent to the dishwasher being packed. Neal returned ten minutes later. "Goodnight Mam'ma." He reached down and kissed his mother on the cheek. Then with an air of certainty, Neal walked around and shook Peter's hand. "Goodnight Agent Burke. Take care," he offered before disappearing upstairs.

_Damn, the kid was an enigma. _


	3. Chapter 3

Peter knocked on Elizabeth's door and was a little surprised to have Neal let him in. The boy didn't look sick yet here he was at home, in the middle of the week, in the middle of the day. Still, schools seemed to keep stranger hours now than when he was a youngster. Following him through to the table where El had set up lunch for three Peter asked, "Which school do you attend, Neal?" Peter greeted Elizabeth with a kiss as he listened for an answer from the young boy.

"I attend the school of life, Peter."

"What does that mean?" Peter pulled out a chair and sat down.

"What do you think it means, Peter?"

Ne pas être à puce, Neal." El admonished firmly as she poured the drinks.

"Oui Mère. Excuse me Peter. I don't go to school." Neal spoke in a more contrite tone.

"Why not? Did something happen?" _For sure the child hadn't been expelled. Peter had seen worse behaviour on a nun._

"School didn't agree with me, Peter. I found it… stifling." Neal made himself a salad sandwich out of the selection before him on the table. "Instead, I prefer to learn from living."

Peter looked across at El for a clue. Too early in their relationship to blurt out, '_what the hell_.' So instead he went for, "Are you home schooled, Neal?"

"Not in the official sense. I learn a good deal at home, reading books, helping Mom out with the chores. I look after filing the bills and help to manage the finances. So I guess you could call that home schooling in an unofficial capacity." The teenager took another bite of his sandwich and Peter slipped a little deeper into the mystery novel that was Neal Caffrey.

-W-C-

A week later when El invited Peter to come over for dinner, she suggested he may like to bring an overnight bag. El found herself longing for the sweet, caring, thoughtful man when he wasn't around and the house was beginning to feel like Peter belonged there as much as its other two occupants. At the same time, Peter, when asked to stay over, felt like a person must feel that had just been told they'd won the lotto. He couldn't concentrate all afternoon. Work was a right-off and he was more than happy to head home early to pack a bag for his sleepover. He stopped at the bottle shop on the way and picked up a selection of white and red wine. It was more than he'd ever spent on alcohol in one transaction in his whole life. Of course he'd only take in one or two bottles in with him when he arrived so he'd need to make a decision at some point.

Peter actually managed to make it to El's place before she did, even with all his procrastinating in the bottle shop, so he hung out in the car waiting. About half an hour later, he saw the door open from the inside which was a little interesting as he had rung the doorbell when he'd first arrived and no one had answered. Neal stepped out the front door looking cautiously in each direction and moved to stand on the footpath. He was dressed smartly and wore a khaki satchel over his shoulder and a trendy hat on his head. He looked like he was waiting for something to happen and sure enough, a dark blue camira pulled up and the young boy jumped in. Peter copied down the plates and was about to check it out when El rapped on the window of his car. Peter climbed out and pulled El in for a kiss. "Hi Honey."

"You been waiting long sweetie? I'm sorry, the traffic was really bad." Peter grabbed his bag off the back seat and they both headed up to the house.

"I haven't been here too long at all El, but just before you arrived, Neal left in a car with someone. I didn't catch who it was."

"Oh." El looked surprised but not concerned. She dumped her assortment of files and bags she'd been carrying onto the coffee table and moved on from Peter's inquiry. "Do you want to go out for dinner or should we eat in."

Okay, so El wasn't troubled by the 'Neal incident.' "We could go down to that little Chinese place on Market Street? If it's not too chilly out for a stroll we could walk."

"Oh I love that restaurant."

So it was decided, Dine-In Chinese to celebrate the first sleepover.

Peter was uncertain how Neal would fit into going out for dinner since he'd just split but he had to be careful. He didn't want to bombard El with a grilling about her son. Sometimes he had to work at pulling back from being an agent and try to be more like a friend.

They got back home soon after ten and Peter was intrigued that the house was still empty and El was yet to offer an explanation. Perhaps Neal was having a staying over with a friend. That would explain a lot. But in his gut he knew it was unlikely to be that simple.

The next morning after a romantic night of kissing, cuddling and everything else that a new couple gets up to, Peter rolled over and snuggled up to his sweet, stunningly gorgeous girlfriend. He made a wish that it would be the first of many mornings waking up beside Elizabeth. The thought of sleeping in his own cold bed back at his apartment without smelling her intoxicating beauty was more than he could bare.

When Peter finally got back into his car around mid-afternoon, he was anxious to look up the number plates of the blue camira. He went to place his hands on the little notebook he'd scribbled the information on the afternoon before but it was gone. "What the hell?" And this time he did blurt the words out loud.


	4. Chapter 4

Neal stretched out on his bed as a wave of fatigue washed over him. It had been a long, mentally intense night and to top it all off, he had to use his 'alternate entrance' as his mom's new boyfriend was still hanging out downstairs. He rolled over onto his side and grabbed a worn little notebook out of his satchel. Thumbing through the pages he found the entry he was after and pulled out the entire page. He read through some of the other notes before tucking the book back securely into his bag, reminding himself to return it at some point to its owner. Neal sighed heavily and shook his head. His life was about to get a heck of a lot more complicated...

-W-C-

The coffee mug shattered to the ground and Verbal stopped walking with a limp and strolled with self-assuredness to the car.

Neal looked over at Peter who was snuggled into El. "How clueless were those detectives? Should be put on traffic control for disgracing the department like that. What, they couldn't see the writing all over the wall. The clues were littered all over the room. I knew it was Verbal all along."

"You did not." Peter shot back as he stretched out and encroached even further into El's space. He had to admit, there was a good chance the kid had worked out it was Verbal early in the movie. He had an uncanny knack of seeing right through people's motivations and he found himself preempting Neal spoiling a movie plot by telling him to keep his deductions to himself until the final credits. Peter prided himself at being switched on but this kid gave him a run for his money.

El picked up the remote and flicked off the TV. 'The Usual Suspects' had been Peter's choice. She had hired out 'On Golden Pond'. It was too late to start watching another movie so it would have to wait for another night.

After the TV was switched off, all three remained in their seats in semi-darkness feeling too lazy to get up and head to their bedrooms. It was Saturday night after all. Peter was becoming a permanent fixture at El's place on Friday and Saturday nights. A few times she had stayed over at Peter's for a night but he tried to avoid it if possible. While he loved having her over, he had a niggling feeling about young Neal that wouldn't go away. He had asked El who was babysitting but never quite got a straightforward answer. Peter's one bedroom studio apartment wasn't suitable for a dating couple and a thirteen year old so the unspoken agreement was that he would always stay over at El's.

Peter stood up, pulling El as he went. "Come on let's call it a night."

El collected her pillow and moved towards the stairs. "Come on Baby Seal. You coming up too?"

"I might just camp her for the night Mam'ma."

Neal did look relaxed enough to spend a comfortable night on the single-seater arm chair.

"Come on, Buddy." Peter reached down and yanked Neal up and over his shoulder and began carrying him up the stairs.

"On second thoughts," Neal spoke from over Peter's back, "I think I'll sleep in my bed."

Peter put the young kid down at the top of the first landing. "Good choice, Buddy."

"Goodnight Peter, goodnight Mam'ma."

"Night, night Baby." El kissed her son before he trotted off up to his bedroom on the third floor.

-W-C-

Peter came out of the shower slightly dripping and sat on the edge of the bed watching Elizabeth pull on her sleep shirt. "El, I can't help but ask, you're not concerned about Neal dropping out of school at his age and missing out on a high school diploma?"

El sighed. "I am concerned Peter but it's complicated." El sat on the bed beside Peter. "He's a very smart boy. I expect he would be considered gifted if he were ever to be tested. School was a waste for him. It made us both very unhappy. Neal hated going and I hated dragging him along and the fallout from our emotions of being subjected to it day in day out was very draining."

"Why isn't he home schooled then?"

"What's the point? Neal could pass any test I could put in front of him. Where would it get us?"

"A high school diplomacy equivalent, essential for a government position or a university placement."

"True, but there's plenty of time for that."

"Have you considered it's actually against the law."

"Why Agent Burke, you going all official on me?"

"Only if it turns you on." They both chuckled knowing full well that El was turned on when Peter _played _Agent Burke in the bedroom. "Seriously, I'm just asking if it's a concern for you?"

"It's a huge concern Peter." El became somber again. "Obviously life would be easier if my thirteen year old son was attending junior high. I'm not worried about the law. They have their hands full with the multitude of truant students in this city causing trouble on the streets everyday and I'd be stunned if they landed on the doorstep demanding I drag Neal along to school. In any case, bottom line Peter, it's what we have at the moment."

"Fair enough El. You'll let me know if I can ever help you out."

El gave Peter a sweet kiss. "I know I can always count on you. You on the other hand, if you have any good ideas, please don't wait for me to ask. I'm open to suggestions." El hopped up and pulled back the blanket. "Now, what was that about breaking the law, Agent Burke?"

Peter flicked off the lights and both were too caught up in each other to hear the thirteen year old creep back down the stairs and out the front door.


	5. Chapter 5

It was only a matter of time. He already had keys, he already had a room, his drink of choice had its own compartment in the fridge and his toiletries were spread throughout the ensuite. Deciding he had all but moved in anyway and after justifying that he no longer spent anytime at his old place, Peter cancelled the lease on his studio apartment and moved in the few remaining pieces of his life. His bed went into the guest room which previously had only a day bed and his lounge went into the basement. His dining table was left behind for any future resident of his studio apartment. He found that the remainder of his life could be packed easily into half a dozen or so boxes, which was a little depressing when he thought about it. El had discussed the move with Neal who gave his approval in his own quirky little way by making a sign for the master bedroom that read, 'Big Brother lives here now so anything you say can and will be used against you.'

One night, not long after the official 'move-in', Peter quietly went downstairs for an iced-water about 2am. He was just rounding the bottom of the stairs to head back up when he all but collided with young Neal. The water splashed across the wooden floor and it took Peter a few moments to register that the kid had come through the front door, not from the living area like he had. And unlike Peter, who was in his pajamas, Neal was fully dressed.

"What're you up to Agent Burke?" Neal got his voice first.

"What are YOU up to, don't you mean?" Neal only ever called Peter, Agent Burke as a way to frazzle him.

"I thought I'd do a bit of exercise. We had a big meal and I ate too much desert. You know how it is?"

"No I don't Neal!" Peter's whisper was as loud as one could get without it technically being called yelling. The agent grabbed Neal's arm and dragged him to the table. "Sit down!"

Neal obeyed and Peter pulled out a chair. "What's going on Neal?"

"Like I said…"

"No BS Neal. I'm a federal agent. Don't waste your time thinking of some lame excuse. If it's not the truth don't bother."

Neal sat, lips sealed, staring defiantly at Peter.

While waiting patiently for a response, Peter noticed Neal's satchel. He always wore the satchel. Never left home without it. This time however, it was bulging. "What's in the satchel, Neal?"

"My stuff."

"Let me see."

"That would be an illegal search, Agent Burke."

"Not if you let me."

"In that case, I choose not to let you look in my personal satchel, Agent Burke."

"Do I need to get El?"

"No."

"She can look in your bag."

"But you can't use the evidence against me if she does." Peter hated with a passion that this kid was so acutely aware of the law. Not because it stopped him from doing his job better but because in Peter's world, kids weren't supposed to know, didn't need to know about that side of life.

"I don't want to use anything against you Neal. You're a part of my life now and I'm more than a little concerned that you're coming home at 2am in the morning after being who knows where, carrying what I suspect is either stolen property or an illegal item of some kind. Am I wrong Neal, cause if I am, I'll still be upset about you sneaking out but I'll apologize for not trusting you with what you are carrying in your satchel?"

Neal stood up, Peter followed. "Wake Mom up if you need to Peter but I'm not letting you look in my bag."

Peter contemplated his options. He'd have to talk this over with El and by the time he did, all evidence would be long gone. Without thinking, he grabbed Neal's arm again, turned him sideways and swatted him very hard across his backside. "Go to bed, Neal. Don't let me catch you out at this time again."

Neal was in so much shock from the swat, he didn't remember walking up the two sets of stairs, changing into his pajamas or climbing into bed. He lay awake for a while, thinking about his encounter with 'Father' and while he hadn't lost the round, he clearly wasn't the winner either.

-W-C-

Peter was keen to speak with El at first light. He was pretty sure he never made it back to sleep after the 2am incident. He was concerned about El's reaction to him smacking Neal. Clearly the child had never been spanked in his life and the subject had never come up. Peter was hoping he wasn't about to get his walking ticket.

He had to wait till the alarm went off at 7am to break the news. Before they got up for breakfast, Peter confessed, "El, I swatted Neal last night."

El did the whole eyebrow raising thing that she did so well so Peter took that as a sign to explain. "I went down to get a drink about 2am, I know, it's New York and you don't need ice in water in New York. Anyway, I ran into Neal coming in through the front door. I made him sit down to explain to me why he was out so late and then I noticed something large in his satchel. I asked him to show me and he refused and told me I'd have to get you up so I turned him around, gave him a solid swat to his backside and sent him up to bed."

El was speechless before springing out of bed and grabbing for her dressing gown. Peter braced himself. Surely it wouldn't come down to this. "He wouldn't show you in his bag?" El didn't wait for an answer. She was heading up the stairs.

Should he follow? It seemed El was going to take this up with Neal. He'd never been up to the kid's room so he quickly raced after one very angry mother. El stopped halfway up and turned to Peter. "I wouldn't have minded if you woke me, Peter. And I also wouldn't have minded if you pried the satchel from his defiant little hands. What's more, Neal would have known that as surely as I'm standing here. Next time, please feel free to give him a sound hiding before you send him to bed." Peter released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

El began to continue up the stairs when they both heard the front door open and slam shut. _There goes the evidence._ _Early bird gets the worm in this house._ Accepting their defeat and knowing full well they wouldn't find any clues in Neal's room, El and Peter returned to the master bedroom to get ready for work.

-W-C-

Peter buttoned up his shirt and asked, "El you're not as upset about Neal being out late at night as you are about him not letting me see in his bag? You already know about his nocturnal adventures?"

"I don't know what he does, I can guess. I saw it all ten years ago. I try not to let it get to me." El sat down at the dresser, straightening her long wavy hair with a wand. In a voice that was missing her usually confidence she continued explaining, "We kind of have an unspoken agreement. I ignore what I call the 'René gene effect' and in return, he does the right thing by me at all other times. It's my way possibly of holding onto my son, give him a bit of leave way, get a lot of love in return. I feel a bit lost how to handle it sometimes. Maybe a bit scared of the future." El's tone became more forceful again as she spoke. "I'll admit I turn a blind eye to what he gets up to out there, but I can control what happens in this house and he will be respectful to us and if we ask him to show us in his bag, he will do so without question!"

"And what if he doesn't?" Peter pulled on his jacket.

"He's never disobeyed me directly."

"First time for everything, Honey."

"Luckily for me, you're a light sleeper who is crazy enough to go all the way downstairs to get a drink because our bathroom doesn't have an ice-dispenser. Sounds like you've arrived on the scene just in time, sweetie."

After dinner that night, the wayward son was rounded up and Peter and El sat down with him to lay down the law, explain the rules and to deliver a very stern lecture about obeying parents. They weren't really new rules, or surprising rules – don't go out at night by yourself, no stealing, no doing anything that might lead to trouble or there'd be consequences. Neal sat politely through the lecture and acknowledged the rules that he had absolutely no intention of following.


	6. Chapter 6

"The suit causing you trouble again?"

"A little… I'll have whatever you're having." Neal handed the menu over to his best friend, Mozzie.

"In that case you'll be having the galette au saumon fume with cream."

"I don't feel like smoked salmon."

Mozzie rolled his eyes, used to his friend's moods. He was seven years older than Neal making for an unorthodox relationship but they were kindred spirits with similar interests, talents and intelligence. They moved in the same circles and their friendship had come about easily.

"Look Neal. Do you want us to do a number on the suit? Time for him to move on?" Mozzie rubbed at his goatee while thinking off into the distance.

"No…not necessary. I can handle the restrictions. We'll just work around it, makes it all the more challenging." Neal perked up a little. "Besides, Mom likes him a lot" _and so do I_. "I'll have the Coq Au Vin."

-W-C-

"Neal, you go out again last night?" El's query was laced with disappointment.

Neal swallowed his mouthful of Bran Flakes and looked across at his mom before sneaking a sideways peak at Peter. "Yes."

"What time did you go out? We know you got in around half one." El took a sip from her steaming coffee.

"Look Mom, I just went out to get some fresh air. Didn't stay out too long. Didn't go too far. I'm sorry okay." Neal pushed his cereal aside no longer feeling hungry. "Would you like me to clean out the central air ducts today while you're at work? It's been a while since they've been cleaned."

"El asked what time you went out?" Peter ignored Neal's feeble attempt to deflect attention away from his transgression.

"I don't know. Maybe about half past eleven." Neal was frustrated at being treated like a kid and it showed.

_Two hours_. "Neal. We've told you our expectations. No going out at night without permission, by yourself." Peter spoke firmly. "It's not safe. A grown man shouldn't be walking around by himself at that time of night. You're thirteen years old and probably don't weigh any more than a hundred pounds. Some lowlife could easily drag you into a car and they wouldn't even break a sweat."

Neal had listened to enough. He hopped up from the table, threw his satchel over his shoulder and headed for the front door.

Peter hopped up too, trailing close behind. "Neal?" The kid turned back with a 'what now' look on his face.

"You're grounded for the rest of the week."

"Grounded, Peter?" The boy's tone indicated he could care less.

"That's right Neal. You are not to leave this house unless it's with El or myself. While we are at work, you are to stay here at all times. And we will be calling at various times throughout the day to make sure you haven't absconded. Do you understand?"

Neal looked over at his mom who now stood behind Peter with her arms folded like the Agent's Deputy. "When does this grounding begin?"

"Now, Neal."

"No problem, Peter." Neal casually strolled to the front door, opened it slowly and stepped out.

Peter took a moment to register that the kid had all but given him the finger. It was the Neal Caffrey polite version of telling someone to 'stick it.'

Peter caught up with Neal before he had even reached the footpath. He grabbed the boy around his waist with one arm and hoisted him onto his hip facing outwards before carrying him back to the house like you would an errant toddler. It was at this point that Neal realised his critical error in underestimating the power of a 'step-parent' who now had total discipline approval. Still holding the boy on his hip, Peter removed the khaki satchel from around Neal's shoulder with his free hand, put his foot up on the coffee table, turned Neal around so he was now bent over his knee and proceeded to lay a series of very hard spanks onto the young boy's butt.

If Neal hadn't been in pain, he would have been mortified at being placed in such an undignified position but the short, solid spanking hurt and when Peter stood him up again the only emotion he was willing to display was relief.

"Let's try it again shall we? You're grounded Neal. Please go to your room."

"Yes Peter."

And that's where Neal remained, pretty much for the duration of the week. He used his time productively to concentrate on clandestine pursuits that could be completed from within his room. He only left once, on Sunday afternoon when the family went for a picnic at Central Park. Peter took a frisbee, Neal took a chess board, El took a magazine and they all had a splendid time.


	7. Chapter 7

"Pass me that edging brush please, Buddy."

Neal put down the box he'd been moving and grabbed the requested item for Peter. "I'm happy with how that's starting to look." Neal indicated the small area of wall that was now adorned with the olive green paint that he had chosen himself from the hardware store. Peter had decided to do up the basement over the weekend while El was out of town securing clients for her new business. So he'd dragged Neal along to the store for moral support in selecting a colour scheme and the young kid had all but taken over. Neal opened the roller and made quick work of catching up to Peter's edging efforts.

"Your birthday next weekend?" Peter asked.

"Yeah."

"What would you like?"

Neal was going to say 'a break' but Peter had been good to him and he deserved better. "Mom is taking me to see The Phantom of the Opera next Saturday night. Would you like come?"

Peter's brush slipped out of his hand and landed fortunately onto the plastic protection sheet he'd laid down before beginning. "Oh…No that's a special night for you and your mom." Peter climbed down off the step stool to retrieve the edger. "But thank you anyway. How about on Sunday you and I go fishing or hiking or if you like the following weekend we could go camping up at the national park?"

Neal would have rolled his eyes if he didn't think Peter was seriously considering these as possible options for an exciting day out. "Peter, it's my birthday. Shouldn't it be something I actually like? Those suggestions sound more like a list of punishments for very serious offences."

"Okay." Peter sounded deflated like he'd taken his best shot and it wasn't even close to the mark.

Neal felt bad that he was unable to show a little more enthusiasm for Peter's gift ideas so he came up with a compromise quickly. "Any chance you'd be able to take me to the Met for my birthday? They have a renaissance exhibition that's ending in a couple of weeks and I was hoping to make it before it closed."

"Yeah. That sounds great." _How bad could it be?_ "If that's what you'd like, I'd love to take you."

"Thanks so much."

Peter resumed his painting happy with the successful negotiation and feeling a lot like a real dad working on a project with his son.

-W-C-

Neal came downstairs on the morning of his fourteenth birthday. Twelve years to the day since his father was shot. It was always his first birthday thought. His whole life he'd never have trouble remembering that particular anniversary.

The fourteen year old walked into the living and dining room only to find it empty. He was about to walk into the kitchen when he heard activity on the back patio. Opening the back door, he was greeted with the traditional birthday wishes, kisses and hugs.

Neal sat down on one of the patio chairs to help himself to a juice when suddenly, a gorgeous labrador pup came running out of nowhere and began to lick the birthday boy's feet.

"Hey. Wow!" Neal scooped up the puppy and cuddled him close. "What's this? For me?"

El nodded.

"I didn't think you'd let me have a pet Mom?"

"No I didn't, Baby Seal. The puppy is from Peter." El disappeared into the house to get the hot food.

"Wow, Peter. I don't know what to say. He's incredible." Neal stroked the puppy's shiny coat and then quickly wiped a stray tear away from the corner of his eye. "Thank you, Peter." Neal juggled the puppy in one arm while he gave Peter a huge hug with the other.

"You're welcome, Neal. What are you going to call him?"

"I have no idea. Maybe Special Agent Caffrey." Neal joked.

"Could be tricky for puppy to learn but it can be whatever you like." Peter got up to help El with the breakfast and to leave the boy to spend some time with his new friend. "I thought we could leave for the Met in about an hour Neal?" he suggested before heading inside.

"Awesome."

-W-C-

Peter stretched out on the couch while Neal took up position on the arm chair. El had gone up to have a shower while the two boys polished off what was left of the birthday cake. "I was thinking Peter, I'd like to try fishing sometime if it's still on offer. I don't know anything about fishing so it might not be much fun for you." Neal shrugged. "Maybe you could show me. I really don't have any idea."

"Well it's your lucky day, little one because you are looking at the Junior Fly Fishing Champion for Carrol County. I can turn you into the greatest fisherman Brooklyn has ever seen."

"I'm guessing that's not a very prestigious title. I imagine not much in the way of competition around here. But still, I'll be happy just not to get a hook through my eye. My expectations are very low Peter."

"Nonsense. Aim high, Buddy. Aim for the moon and you might hit a star."

Neal gave Peter _the_ look. "What are you, an inspiration calendar?"

"No. I'm just full of insight after our four hours at the Met today." _And just an average guy learning to be a dad._

"Fair enough. So we might try fishing one weekend?"

"Yeah. And I'll stand guard over your eyes so you don't get a hook through them!"

"Thanks, Peter." Neal dragged himself off the chair, picked up his puppy and walked over to kiss the older man goodnight. "Thanks for a fantastic birthday."

"My pleasure, son."

Neal liked the sound of that. It was the first time Peter had called him son and in years to come when he celebrated his birthday, Neal no longer remembered it as the day his dad died. He remembered it fondly as the day his dad gave him Satchmo.

-W-C-

The following weekend, Neal found himself chasing Satchmo into the master bedroom. Peter and El sat up to check out the commotion.

"Sorry to wake you guys."

"No worries Baby Seal, we were already awake."

"Speak for yourself, El," Peter groaned as he wiped a hand across his face and willed his eyes to stay open.

Neal took that as an invitation to jump up onto the bed and planted himself comfortably between the two adults.

Resigning to the fact that all chance of a lazy morning slumbering was shot, Peter announced, "I'll go put the kettle on. You want a milkshake, Buddy."

"Yes thanks, Peter." His chocolate milkshakes were legendary.

El waited until she heard Peter in the kitchen before asking the kid lying beside her, "How would you feel if Peter was to adopt you?"

"I'm sorry?" El had Neal's full attention.

"I've been speaking a little to Peter about him adopting you but before we go any further, I'd like to know what you think." All El got was a blank stare so she asked, "Do you understand what that would mean?"

"Of course, Mam'ma." Neal hated it when El gave him less credit for his intelligence than he was due. "Would I change my name?"

"Only if you wanted to."

"I think I'd like to stay a Caffrey. Will you be changing your name?" El had taken Neal out for lunch through the week and told her son that Peter had asked her to marry him. Neal had remarked that the expected engagement was far from a revelation but had congratulated his mom, kissed her and told her how happy he was for all of them.

"I will be changing my name to Burke."

"What difference will it make if I let him adopt me?"

"It won't be any different to what it is now." El preempted the 'then why bother' statement. "Legally though, he also becomes your guardian. He is legally allowed to make all the same decisions that I am able to as your mother."

"I'm happy with the way it is already."

"I know this is hard for you to hear but if something were to happen to me Baby, I'd be able to take comfort in knowing that you'll be well cared for. Peter loves you very much." El pulled her son in close. "I also believe that you deserve a father, Neal and while you would never admit it, you love Peter as much as I do."

Neal rolled off the bed and scooped up his puppy that was beginning to chew on El's slipper. "I'd like to think about it if that's okay."

"Of course, Baby."

-W-C-

"Peter, are you and my mom going to have kids once you get married?" The cool air cut right through Neal's jacket as the Staten Island Ferry returned to its Lower Manhattan port. The pair were out for a boy's day out which included a ride on the ferry, hot dogs and art galleries. A real mixed bag!

"We already have a kid."

Neal looked predictably insulted. "Okay then, another kid."

"We'd like to but I have a medical condition that means I cannot father a child."

"Oh." Neal was using Peter as a wind breaker which the older man found quite amusing.

"Yeah. I've known pretty much my whole adult life and I did talk to El about it very early on in our relationship. It wouldn't have been fair to leave something like that out in case maybe your mom had her heart set on having more children."

"I'm pretty sure she just had her heart set on you."

"And you of course."

Neal stopped looking out at the view and studied his hands that were resting in his lap. "Did she tell you about my father?"

"She did Neal."

"She never really talked much to me about him. I had to do my own research."

_I can only imagine._ "She would be probably happy to talk with you about him now that you are older. Maybe she was just protecting you at the time."

"Maybe... I'm a lot like him you know." Neal's voice was missing its usual confidence. He actually sounded like a teenager.

"You're not him."

"Certain things are in my blood."

"I don't believe it." Peter pulled the boy in close and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. "It's been my experience that the greatest influence on a person are the people that surround him day in day out and and the love that is used to guide them." He leaned over and kissed the top of Neal's head.

"Not the old nature versus nurture debate, Peter?"

"Something like that."

"Peter?"

"Yeah, Buddy?"

"If I wanted to call you Dad, how would you feel?"

"I'd feel like it felt right. I'd like it a lot but I'd only like it if it was something you wanted to do, not something to make me happy. See the difference?"

"Yeah." The ferry came to a complete stop and passengers were allowed to disembark. "Peter?" Peter looked patiently at the young boy waiting for him to continue. The kid was fully of deep and meaningful questions today. "If you adopt me, could I add an amendment."

"No."

"No? But you don't even know what the amendment is yet."

Peter took Neal's hand as they walked off the ferry. "Of course I know what you'd put."

"What, you can read my mind now?"

"Is it a no spanking clause?"

Neal ignored the fact that Peter had indeed read his mind and changed the subject."Don't forget you promised Mom you'd get her a bottle of fragrance from that shop she likes on Water Street."

"Thanks, Buddy. I'd be sharing with Satchmo tonight if I forgot."

-W-C-

Their chosen path up towards Greenwich Village took the weekend sightseers directly through the Enbrook Plaza Markets.

They were about to cross through the stall littered plaza when suddenly Neal grabbed Peter's arm and tried to steer him in an alternate direction. "Wait, let's go via Church Street. There's a gallery there I'd like to check out."

Peter didn't know what to make of Neal's slightly panicked state but he was keen to look through the markets so he suggested, "We'll go there after I have a quick look through some of these stalls. I may be able to grab something else to put away for El for Christmas."

"Can I meet you at the gallery?"

"No, you can not meet me at the gallery." Peter turned to face the young boy, "Neal, what's wrong, Bud?"

"Nothing, Peter…I just didn't want to miss out on the gallery before it closes but it's okay. Let's look through the market first."

_What a load of crap._ "Okay then."

Neal pulled his hat down further over his eyes and donned a pair of dark sunglasses he found in his pocket after Peter stopped to look at a sunglasses hut. It didn't work. At the next stall, "Hi Nick."

Peter turned to see who the store holder was talking to but since only he and Neal were standing close he looked at Neal for a clue."

"Uh…Hi." The kid took a few steps away and Peter followed.

"Who was that, Neal? Did they call you Nick?"

"Possibly. May have confused me with someone else."

Peter got distracted at a hand carved wood stall soon after and Neal though he was off the hook until, "Hey yah Nick."

This time Peter gave the young kid his full attention. "Neal." Peter tilted his head and used his firm agent voice. Translation - Explain this to me now before I throw you in leg irons!

"Peter." Neal held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. "Obviously I look like someone who hangs out around here sometimes, I don't know, I'm a pretty standard looking fourteen year old."

_Like hell._ "Where did those sunglasses come from?" Peter noticed the shades for the first time.

"Well.." Neal didn't need to answer because a young man in his early twenties walked past at that moment and slapped the kid on his back, "What ya been up to Nick?"

"Not too much, Charlie." Neal groaned out.

"Catch you later, man."

Peter's charge looked up at him with a nervous smile.

The agent simply shook his head, "I don't even want to know. Let's go."

They almost made it to the edge of the plaza when out of no where a young woman appeared in front of the pair and asked Neal, "Steve, I need some advi…" Peter grabbed the kid's upper arm and all but dragged him to the gallery on Church Street.


	8. Chapter 8

Peter had been putting it off but he told himself it was time to finally bite the bullet. Being on the third level and having absolutely no genuine reason to do it earlier, he was ashamed to admit he had never been in the teen's room. Neal kept the door closed and Peter felt like he needed to afford his 'son to be' some level of trust and privacy. That's what he had been telling himself. But in reality, he knew he was nervous about what he might find. He didn't want it to be something that would turn into an official investigation and as a result jeopardize what he had with El and Neal. It wasn't worth taking the risk. Plausible deniability! But he was about to marry this kid's mother and adopt the child and in light of recent events at Enbrook Plaza, he could no longer afford the luxury of putting off the inevitable. He hadn't once stepped into Neal's room, but that was about to change.

Peter waited till Neal took his puppy for a walk, knowing that he would be at least 30minutes. He turned the knob on Neal's door and stepped through the looking glass.

It _was_ more like stepping into a story book, less like a teenager's bedroom and certainly nothing like he ever expected. The room was quite overwhelming and Peter didn't know where to settle his gaze first. His eyes wandered over the beautiful paintings that adorned the walls. He stared at the drawings framed on dressers and sideboards throughout the room and his eyes stopped roaming at the canvas resting on the easel. An unfinished painting of El and Peter sitting in a park. It was so real, Peter reached out and touched El's face. Damn, the paint was still wet. Peter wiped his finger across the rag at the base of the easel. _So much for being covert!_ There was a drawing table filled with a collection of pastels, pencils, paper, paints, a sketch book with discarded pages sitting loosely on top. The art work was incredible and Peter forgot where he was. The bedroom was huge, taking up the entire third floor with a small ensuite at one end. It was clean, it was tidy and nothing was out of place. Peter found himself suddenly too nervous to touch anything else. He expected the owner of the room would notice anything slightly out of place. The bed was carefully made, sitting perfectly under the window and on the sill were a half dozen ceramic ornaments. As Peter investigated further, he became aware of an amazing accumulation of models, ornaments, sculptures and the likes placed on shelves throughout the room. And books, lots of books – classics, not your usual teenage fare, expensively bound that would have looked more at home in an antique shop than in a fourteen year old's bedroom.

Peter went to the wardrobe and opened the twin antique doors. Finally he was greeted with an expected sight. Junior sized dress shirts and casual pants - Neal's attire of choice. Quickly deciding on a drawer, Peter pulled out the one containing socks, and only socks. Socks sorted into black and grey. No white socks here - come to think of it, Neal never wore shorts so he probably had very little need for sports socks. Peter found himself getting sidetracked, again. Pulling out the next drawer down, Peter discovered the 'buried treasure'. He wasn't overly surprised to find the box locked but it had both a built in combination lock plus a padlock and Peter knew there was no chance of viewing the contents without leaving some clue behind so he reluctantly placed it back into the drawer wishing badly for some type of special power like x-ray vision. Peter suspected that had he been Superman, a number of questions could have been easily answered. Having to give up on that plan, Peter moved to the bottom draw which he found filled with paper materials and a small selection of books and cards. Neal's fourteenth birthday card was sitting on top - the one El and he had given to the teenager. As he picked it up a library card slipped out and dropped to the floor. Bending down to pick it up, Peter couldn't help a self-satisfied smile spreading across his face._ What are you up to Neal?_ The day following the boys little weekend adventure touring around the city, Peter had taken a photo of Neal back to Enbrook Plaza and shown it around. Amazingly, no one had recognised the young boy in the photo despite the fact that he had been a very familiar face the day before. Of course Neal had told Peter it was all a misunderstanding and he had only used alternate names because he had been helping out one of his friend's parents unpacking various equipment for the markets and he didn't want to ruin a perfectly good reputation by being labelled a goodie two-shoe. _What a load of crock_, Peter had thought at the time but because he was a patient man and because he knew Neal was running out of options and he'd have to give up his little secrets sooner or later, Peter let it go. For now. The agent placed Steve Tabernacle's library card deliberately back into the birthday card and closed up the twin antique doors.

Agent Burke stepped back out into the hall, carefully closing the door as to not disturb the inanimate objects residing in the room. Overwhelmed by what he had seen and with no earthly idea of what he should do with that information, he headed down to the kitchen to collect a beer from the fridge and hopefully to find a game on the telly.

-W-C-

Mozzie adjusted the glasses on his face, "I don't know man. You really are just getting yourself in deeper with every move you make. Don't you think it's time you cashed in on the fact that you now have a Fed in your back pocket?"

Neal slipped the security box covertly into his satchel and made for the front door of the Art-Emporium. The security case set the alarm off at the door and the two boys stopped at the direction of a young shop assistant.

Mozzie held out a small box that he'd been holding in his hand. "Sorry man, I was distracted here with my friend. Didn't realise I was still holding it. What was the price again, $209? I'll go check out my savings account and hopefully I'll be back."

"Okay. Thank you." The young assistant took the box and put it on the counter.

Outside, Mozzie asked, "Tell me you'll think about it Neal. I know you don't want to hear it but she doesn't always have your best interests at heart."

"Thanks for the pep talk Moz. I have work to do so I'll catch you later."

"Be careful man."

-W-C-

Neal deposited his satchel onto the dining table along with the security box and headed into the kitchen to retrieve a makeshift tool. He was about to walk out through the swing door again when he froze. His mom and Peter were coming through the back door with their empty coffee mugs and cake plates laughing about something that had happened at the bakery this morning. Neal dropped the metal meat skewer onto the tiled floor and jumped a couple of feet in the air with the scare.

Peter and El were equally as surprised and were lucky not to drop their crockery onto the floor as Neal had with the skewer.

"Mam'ma, Peter, what are you two doing here?"

"Peter came home and we had lunch together Baby, you Okay?"

"Yeah but don't you two normally have lunch out?"

"Mostly, but I had some things to collect from home so we thought we'd eat in for a change."

"What's up Buddy? You're like as white as a ghost."

Neal was desperately trying to strategize a way to move Peter and his mom away from the evidence on the table. They presently had their backs to the security box but it was only a matter of time. Neal was readying himself to announce a twisted ankle when Peter turned back to place his coffee mug and plate on the table.

Neal sighed deeply. _What was plan B?_

-W-C-

Neal sat with his 'parents' around the dining table with the locked security box sitting ominously in the middle like it was a centre piece. Peter had one hand supporting his chin, the other rapping his fingers on the table top. El sat with her arms folded looking ready to throttle her young son.

"Neal. Please explain." Peter began.

"What's there to say Agent Burke? I found…."

"Peter." The older man insisted knowing full well that while Neal might not have too much trouble telling a bogus story to 'Agent Burke', lying to 'Peter' wouldn't be so easy.

Neal paused for a moment or two before continuing. "Peter…Look. I didn't think. I'm sorry."

"Did you steal it Neal?"

The young boy nodded.

"Why?"

"I need the paints for an art piece I'm working on."

"Why didn't you buy them? You surely have some saving for this," El asked purely out of curiosity.

_Not the $185 shelf price. No._ "I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry." Neal repeated his earlier defense.

"Neal, what did we tell you about stealing after that incident a little while back?" Peter was very serious.

"Don't do it." Neal sighed, yet again.

"And what did you promise us?"

"I said I wouldn't steal."

Peter took a deep breath, looked to El and then ordered, "Go up to your room and wait for me please, Neal."

"What about the paints?" Neal's pitch went up a notch or two.

"I'm going to return them," the agent replied matter-of-factly.

"But I need them."

"Well in that case you should have paid for them with your money like other people do."

"Mère?"

"N'avez pas même envisager il, Neal."

Neal gave up on that angle and tried again, "You can't take them off me Peter!"

"They're not yours, Neal."

Peter remained calm while Neal's composure went downhill fast. "Why do you have to make this so difficult!" The young boy shouted. This was the first time Neal had ever lost his cool in front of the agent. "I hate you Peter!" Neal stormed off and the older couple could hear the footsteps all the way to the third floor.

"That went well."

"He didn't mean what he said, Honey." El looped her fingers through Peter's across the table.

"I know. He's done pretty well in fact to wait until now to blurt that out. It's almost like a rite of passage for a teenager." Peter hoped up and pushed his chair in. "I need to go and take care of this El."

As Peter walked slowly up the stairs, giving the young man a little time to cool his heels, he thought back to the altercation. He was a little surprise by Neal's reaction. It seemed like the implied punishment was a distant second to an ordinary little set of oil paints been taken off him. Another mystery to file with the rest.

Peter knocked on Neal's door. When he didn't get a response after a minute or two, he hesitantly opened the door and knew instantly that the young boy had absconded from custody. The window was slightly ajar and the porcelain ornaments that he saw last time while in the room had been removed form the window sill and where placed carefully onto the bed. _Unbelievable!_


	9. Chapter 9

Neal sneaked a peak at his cards – a straight flush. "I'll see your twenty and raise you two."

"Minimum is five, small fry." The bigger kid's two friends hovering over the park table scoffed at the incompetence of their easy prey.

"Okay then, I guess I'll raise you five." Neal threw a five into his upturned hat which was been used to hold the pot. An earlier gust of wind had led to the innovative use for his precious fedora.

"I'll see your pathetic little five and raise you a hundred."

"One hundred?"

"Yeah, you're in the big league now pip squeak. Either put up or back out. But do it fast cause I haven't got all day."

"Fine. I'll meet your hundred." The older teenagers couldn't contain their arrogance at watching the young boy deposit a hundred dollar bill into the hat. "Let's see what you got Toby."

"It's Tobaaay." The bad ass punk all but spat in Neal's face. 'Tobaaay' turned over a pair of jacks and a pair of sevens.

Neal rolled his eyes. _Loser._ "I'm pretty sure my straight flush beats your two pair, Tobaaay." Neal turned over his hand with great satisfaction. The trio of street punks groaned and cursed at the sight of Neal's winning hand.

The young boy was about to reach for his winnings when, "What the hell!" A feral cat ran across the park table and through the middle of his poker game. This offensive invasion was closely followed by a stumpy beagle which took a simpler path under the table. Neal followed the trail the animals were taking with his eyes and connected very quickly that while the scrawny looking cat possibly had more sense than to run across a NY City road, the well groomed, more-than-likely apartment bound dog with the ornate collar and striking lead, had not much of a chance against the endless stream of yellow taxis. Neal looked back to check for a possible owner of this obviously much loved pet and spotted her immediately. An older lady, carefully dressed in smart clothes and high heels was at a half jog, holding her hand in the air calling out, "Bugsy!"

Neal sprung up from his seat causing his winning hand to fly across the table and raced to rescue the silly animal. He managed successfully to grab the lead just as the beagle was a few short feet away from running into the traffic. He bundled up the prized animal and took him back to his grateful owner. "Thank you so kindly my dear boy. I don't know what go into the little scoundrel. He's usually so well-behaved."

"No problem at all ma'am." Neal began to move back to the table but could quite plainly see that his older opponents had cleared off and he didn't need to look to see that they would have surely taken the winnings with them.

The young kid stood holding the empty hat that had been used to hold the money. _What a surprise._ He looked around to try and spot his cowardly adversaries but the only life close by was the older lady who had joined him at the table. "Oh no, dear. They've taken all the money?"

Neal began to collect his sweater from the ground, his playing cards and his khaki satchel. "It's okay. It'll be alright."

June didn't doubt it but there was something about the child's voice that hit a nerve with the older lady. "It's getting late. Why don't you come back to my place and join me for dinner."

"Well, you live nearby?" Neal put his oversized fedora on and the sweetest smile June had ever seen.

"Not far."

-W-C-

The young boy sat politely at the table, his hands in his lap and waited patiently to be told to serve himself. He sensibly served a moderate size portion of ravioli onto his plate before June insisted he would need more for a growing boy like himself. The child ate graciously throughout dinner, using the cutlery correctly, keeping his elbows off the table and even used the napkin to careful wipe his face upon polishing off all the food on his plate. Someone, somewhere had taught this child very good manners and he had competent social skills that June thought were rare for such a young person.

June silently observed the young man as they chatted throughout dinner. He wasn't dressed like a street kid. For sure he needed a shower and the clothes appeared to have been worn for a number of days straight. But the button down shirt and casual pants were classy and unspoiled and his shoes were polished and free from the scuff marks and damage indicative of a well-worn shoe.

The kind widow was able to gather through their dinner conversation that the child lived in Brooklyn, his mother was recently engaged to an FBI Agent and that he was in the park because he'd had a little disagreement with the folks. June did not want to interrogate so she had no idea what the disagreement had been about, how long he had been on the street or why he didn't want to go home. She could gather that Neal cared for both his mother and her fiancé and they came across as being genuinely good parents.

"This is a magnificent home, June. Do you live here alone?"

"I do now, Neal. A few years ago my Byron passed on but I have so many special memories here, I'm unwilling to move into a smaller place."

"That's understandable." Neal packed up his place setting and began to make a move. "Thank you for the meal, June. Your ravioli really hit the spot."

"Thank you young man but my housekeeper made the dish. I'll let her know how much you approved." June hopped up from her chair. "How about I show you around?"

Not wanting to miss an opportunity to see more of this remarkable home, Neal jumped at the chance. "That would be great."

Neal was in raptures over the splendid paintings and exquisite ornaments throughout the house. Or was it a mansion. Neal didn't know the dimensions for a home to be officially recognized as mansion but he was sure it was close enough. He immediately fell in love with the guest room on the top floor, possibly due to the impressive patio with a ten million dollar view of Manhattan. June sat at the little patio table while the young boy leaned against the rendered barrier gazing out at the setting sun leaving an orange tinge on the buildings below. "Awesome."

"Young man." June drew Neal's attention to the table and he came and sat across from the older lady. "I'm going to give you my number in case you would like to call. I'm hoping you will come back and join me again for dinner, perhaps lunch or even a simple game of cards." June handed Neal a beautifully embossed card with the name June Bowen and a phone number. "Would you like to copy your name and number down so I can call you too?" June placed a blank card and pen onto the patio table in front of the young boy. Neal hoped it wasn't a trick but he felt only good vibes about this woman so he wrote down Neal Caffrey and his home number and passed it to June. "Well Neal Caffrey, I'll just place this in my address book along side my other friends."

Neal couldn't help but ask, "Aren't you going to use it to contact my parents?"

"No. Why is that what you'd like me to do?" The young boy shrugged and cast his eyes down to the tiled surface of the patio. "Young man, I've lived a long time and I am a good judge of character so what I tell you can pretty much take to the bank." June reached around and placed a gentle hand on his back, causing Neal to look up at the caring woman. "I'm certain there are two very loving people out there missing someone terribly."

"I think I'd like to go home now." Tears had begun to form in the young boy's eyes. "Would you mind giving them a call for me please, June."

-W-C-

When his Mom walked through June's door, Neal wrapped his arms tightly around her and rested his head against her chest for the longest time. "I'm sorry, Mam'ma."

El held her son close and scolded, "Don't ever do that again, Baby Seal."

Peter also received a lasting hug and an apology, "I'm sorry for saying those things to you, Peter."

"It's okay, Buddy. We're just so grateful you're safe and well."

After the initial hugs and kisses and the mandatory physically inspection to make sure he was still in possession of all his arms and legs, Neal slipped away from the three adults and curled up on the rug beside the fire place. He must have fallen asleep because he didn't remember being carried to the car or the drive home but before he knew it, he was waking up as the Taurus pulled up in front of his Brooklyn address. Neal entered the house and headed straight for his room desperately looking forward to a hot shower and keen to pull on some soft, warm pajamas. He knew he was about to face the music for his three days off the reservation, and the rest. Peter was so damn persistent and consistent there was no doubt in the kid's mind about his impending fate, but for sure he could be afforded a few moments to pamper himself before the unpleasant business was taken care of.

-W-C-

Peter walked across the length of the third floor bedroom and sat down on Neal's bed. Peter mused that there'd be no adult magazines hidden under this teenager's mattress. Needing a moment to mentally prepare himself, he reached over and took a leather bound book off the bedside table. 'David Copperfield'. He opened up the front cover and was surprised to see an inscription that read, _'You're the real deal, Neal. Kate.'_ Peter raised his eyebrows. Not what he expected, but when was it ever with Neal Caffrey? He began to put the book back when he noticed a book mark. Flipping to the marked page, the agent was surprised to find a fairly recent photo of young Neal sitting with a beautiful brunette on a park bench. The girl was older than Neal, perhaps seventeen or eighteen. They had their arms around each other and were playing up to the camera. The photo was marking a page in the book that began, '_I hope that real love and truth are stronger in the end than any evil or misfortune in the world.'_ Peter replaced the photo and returned the book, suspecting he would have to reassess his earlier assumptions regarding an adult magazine under the mattress after all.

He looked over and could only see the top of the young kids head leaning against the base of the bed. Taking a deep breath he spoke softly, "Come here, please."

Neal made a heavy sigh and hopped up off the floor. He stretched out his legs and then dragged his feet the short distance to where Peter was sitting. He waited for a moment before daring to ask, "Are you going to spank me?"

"Yes, Neal. I'm going to spank you." Peter gently took Neal's arm and carefully guided him across his lap. He pulled him in close and then tucked an arm around his waist holding him firm. "Tell me why I'm going to spank you, Neal."

"Because we couldn't come to an agreement on the 'no spanking amendment'?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Try again. We'll stay here till you remember."

There was a long stretch of silence. "Oh alright Peter!" Neal spoke with frustration knowing that he'd lost this battle. "I stole, I disobeyed, I ran away! Happy?"

"No Neal. I'm not happy." Peter lifted Neal back off his lap and sat him on the bed beside him. "I'm not happy Neal, and neither is El. Do you want to know how we feel?"

Neal shrugged. He didn't really want to know because he already knew.

"We feel, disappointed. Disappointed you stole even when you didn't need to. We feel frustrated. Frustrated because we have a very talented, very smart boy who seems intent on ruining his future before it even has a chance. But well beyond that Neal, we felt scared. More frightened than we'd ever been. You're mom never stopped crying last night. We were both so scared. Scared because, well I know what happens out there on the street. I see evidence of it everyday and guess what? No one ever thinks the bad stuff will happen to them. Yes Neal, we don't feel happy at all. Disappointed, frustrated, scared and many more feelings that are churning around inside of us. And happy isn't one of them."

Neal looked down at the floor unable to face Peter. He knew he was right of course. It was just going to take a long time to admit it out loud. Longer than one lecture from a concerned _almost_ father and one uncomfortable spanking would take.

"Do you understand, Neal?"

"Yes, Peter."

Peter gently lifted Neal back over his lap and positioned him as before. He didn't waste any time administering the spanking. Lifting his arm high, he brought it down swiftly onto the young boy's pajama-clad backside. Neal wriggled uncomfortably but didn't yell out although Peter could tell he was crying softly. After a couple dozen very hard solid smacks Peter stopped the spanking and rubbed the young boy's back until his breathing settled. He stood Neal up and put a hand on his shoulder. "Please don't ever do that again, Neal."

Peter would have liked to get some kind of agreement in response to his statement, even if it was false but instead all he got was a half smile through a few stray tears that Neal hadn't managed to wipe away with his shirt.

"Listen to me Neal." Peter lifted the young boy's chin so he was able to look him in the eye. "If you run away again, or I catch you stealing or anything else illegal, I am going to spank you and…I am going to use my belt."

_Surely not?_ Neal's face paled and he stood in stunned silence.

"Am I clear Neal?"

If his stinging butt wasn't enough then the promise of a more severe consequence certainly was. Time to seriously consider an exit strategy."Yes, Peter."

"Okay then. Goodnight, Buddy." Peter stood up and kissed the boy on his head before heading to the door.

As Peter was leaving the room he glanced again at the interesting little book on the beside table. _' . . . Yes. He is quite a good fellow - nobody's enemy but his own.'_


	10. Chapter 10

Peter came through the front door looking rather peachy as he hung his coat and strolled into the kitchen just in time for a fresh pot of coffee to signal its readiness. "Hi beautiful." Peter kissed his fiancé and grabbed for a sweet pastry that was just asking to be taken.

"Hey handsome. What were you up to this morning?" El had left early for work while both boys enjoyed a Saturday morning sleep-in. She handed Peter his cuppa and they moved out together to sit on the sofa.

"I've been making some inquiries El." Peter sounded all excited. "I've found a small private college on the lower east side that specializes in young gifted art students. I went for a look at the college this morning and the principal, Kelly Belding seems very nice. She has offered us an opening in her entrant program for Neal. It's a small class of fifteen students. And the best part is that students get college credit for their attendance."

"That's really sweet of you to go to all that trouble, Peter. But I just don't have the surplus funds to pay for the tuition fees. Perhaps we could consider it at a later date when my business is up and turning over a satisfactory profit. I imagine a private college in Manhattan is not cheap."

"I have a plan." Peter sat forward on the sofa and spun so he was facing El.

"You've worked it all out. I knew there was a reason I loved you so much." El leaned in and kissed her sweetie on the lips.

Peter pulled back and spoke a little more conservatively, "You may not like my plan so here me out first." El nodded. "I live here now…"

"Yes, and…"

"Well I use to pay $700 a week in rent that I no longer have to pay. I haven't been paying anything in rent here."

"Neither do I. And don't forget you help pay the bills."

"Yeah. And I was also paying the bills at my last address. So I figured the money I save on rent could go directly into paying for Neal's tuition and the surplus would go into a college trust fund."

"I don't know, Peter. It doesn't seem right that you should have to pay for my son to attend school."

"Our son, El. When I moved in here, when I asked you to marry me, Neal was part of the package. We're a family already El. It's you, me and our boy and I'm as responsible for Neal as you are. Once we're married and the adoption becomes offical there won't even be a discussion about it. Until then, I would still like him to go to school." Peter paused for a moment and slowed himself down. "If you don't want that El, then I'll look for something else for him to do with his time, but please don't say no just because you're not happy with the way the finances are being shuffled around."

"Oh sweetie. No. Of course I want him to go to school and I love you for being so caring. I am completely behind you with this. Neal on the other hand….."

-W-C-

"No thank you, Peter." That night at dinner, Peter brought up the idea of Neal attending Bayside Art College.

"Why not Neal?"

"It's not for me."

"How do you know?"

"I'm more of a free will kind of guy. You know paint a little here, sketch a little there."

_Steal a little, con a lot._ "I get it, Neal. Unfortunately you can't live your whole life like that. You have to eventually accept that's not how it's done."

"Why not? Why shouldn't it be like that?"

"Because, that type of attitude doesn't pay the rent, Neal and eventually you'll want to move out of home and for that you'll need a real job."

Mozzie and my other friends don't live at home and they're still free spirits. No nine-five jobs tying them down. No burdens of stress. No early heart attacks or strokes."

It was a difficult argument to win with Neal so Peter conceded that he'd need more time to work on the young man. "Think about it will you, please."

"Sure, Peter. Thank you anyway for your very generous offer." Neal returned to eating his meal and Peter sat back and wondered why he was even the slightest bit surprised that the kid had turned him down.

-W-C-

The following weekend, Peter had given up trying to talk Neal into enrolling in the college so he laid out an alternative plan.

"Neal, since you are not interested in attending school, I've sorted out a work experience program for you." The young boy was lying on the living room floor wrestling with Satchmo and hadn't noticed the 'parental team' zeroing in on its target.

"You what!" Neal untangled the puppy and leapt to his feet.

"Yeah. Have a seat." Peter indicated the empty chair across from where he was sitting with El. "This is how it's going to work. On Monday and Tuesday you will come to the Bureau with me. I'll set you up in my office and you can do filing work and data entry and odd jobs like…"

"Like getting you coffee?"

"I guess. That sounds like a good plan. And then on Wednesday and Thursday you will go to work with El."

"You'll be helping me with stock turnover, client requests and billing information. You can even run the call centre on your days, Baby Seal."

"Sounds so exciting. When do I start?" Neal's tone was dripping with sarcasm.

"This week Neal," Peter ignored the young boy's tone.

"Well I guess it's not total confinement." Neal tried to sound a little more upbeat. "I'll still have Fridays to hang out with real people."

"No. You'll have the weekends to do what the other kids do. Go on picnics with the family, ride your bike around the block, hang out at the skate park."

_I don't even own a bike!_ "Oh come on, Peter. That's just insulting."

"I'm serious, Neal. On Fridays you'll stay here and do chores around the house. El and I will give you a list of jobs at breakfast such as cleaning off the back patio, weeding the garden, stacking firewood."

"The chores won't take up the whole day so when you finish you'll be able to watch a movie, go on the computer, read a good book." El tried to make it sound inviting but sadly that ship had long since sailed.

"And how much will I get paid for a whole week of slave labour?"

Peter disregarded the insinuation and replied casually, "What you get now, $30."

Neal laughed. He laughed so hard he almost fell off his chair. "Oh Peter, you're serious aren't you. Come on, surely you're embarrassed just letting that number come out of your mouth. $30?" _I can make that in 30 seconds._ "A week's work is only worth $30?"

"You're not getting paid for the work experience Neal. It's work experience not a part-time job. You're going to do it so when you are old enough to begin a real job, you'll have references and experience that will go a long way to securing half decent employment. You won't have a college or even a high school diploma to speak of so you'll need something. The $30 is your pocket money for the chores you do around the house. It's the same amount you always get. It's spending money, Neal. Money to go the movies, hire out a DVD, go to the mall with a few friends and buy a new shirt or a music CD."

Neal sobered up. He knew Peter's intentions were thoughtful and considerate, however did he always have to be so oppressively consistent with his parenting? Didn't he have more important concerns to invest his time in? Criminals to catch, cases to solve? Surely someone else out there was causing more strife than one young Neal Caffrey?

"Now Neal, if you change your mind and find this work experience program is not your thing, you can always enroll in the Bayside Art College or any other school of your choosing for that matter."

"No. It's fine." Neal groaned out reluctantly. "The work experience program sounds awesome. I'm looking forward to it. Monday?" He didn't even try to hide how much he loathed the idea.

"Yes, Monday."

"Great." _Crap_

-W-C-

Monday morning came around fast and Peter was about to call out that it was time to leave when the youngster came sauntering down the stairs. He was smartly dressed in back pants and jacket, a crisp white collared shirt, a navy blue striped tie and a neat little tie bar with the initial… B? As he got to the bottom of the stairs he did a neat trick with his hat so it flipped along the length of his hand and onto his head. Peter felt like making some inappropriate comment about him looking like a comic with the head wear and formal attire but reconsidered after he told himself that the boy did look pretty smart after all.

"See you, Hon."

"Bye Mam'ma."

El raced over and gave both her boys a kiss goodbye. "Look at you two. You look like twins."

Both men groaned, Peter picked up his brief case, Neal picked up his satchel and they made tracks before El went and got all emotional on them.

-W-C-

"Comment s'est passée ta journée." Neal's attention had been focused out the car window but he spun around to investigate the unexpected French questioning coming from the Tauras' touch screen.

"Bien, merci, que diriez-vous votre exemplaire." The boy was equally perplexed to hear Peter return an answer in the correct language.

"Peter?" Neal raised his eyebrows and awaited an explanation.

The agent reached over and switched off the language tutor. "I've been learning French while driving to work each day. I figured with twenty minutes each way, and additional time for the occasional gridlock, I'll be speaking fluent French before you know it."

"Why?"

"Because little one, I no longer want to be the only one in the house unable to speak French."

Neal smiled at Peter knowingly. "You know we also speak Italian, Spanish and Japanese."

Peter had stopped at a set of lights, allowing for an opportunity to turn and narrow his eyes at the young boy, "You're kidding me?" Neal continued to smile, pulled an MP3 player from his satchel and plugged in his ear phones. "No you're not." Peter shook his head and resumed the language tutor program.

_Foutre._

-W-C-

Neal found the White Collar office to be exactly how he expected it. Bland, boring and in need of a personal decorator. Perhaps he would have a purpose here after all. They were the first to arrive, excepting for the mail delivery girl and so Peter gave Neal a quick tour of the office. The tour went along the lines of, 'These are the areas you can go, these are the areas you cannot.' The tea room, toilets and Peter's office were on a very short list of acceptable locations. Everywhere else was designated out-of-bounds and could get the offender thrown into lock-up if discovered in such an area, or worse still, would suffer the wrath of one Reece Hughes, Director of the White Collar Unit! Neal made a careful note of the no go zones. Peter nominated a little table at the back of his office for Neal's personal use. He could set it up however he needed. Shortly after settling in, Peter deposited a large box filled with paper work onto the young boy's desk and instructed him to compile and staple. Neal got excited about the idea of checking out some of the cases Peter may be working on but he quickly deflated when he realised they were simply work place health and safety booklets. _Somebody kill me now!_

Thirty minutes later, Neal was ripped from his semi-comatose state when a young agent came in to give Peter a file. "Jones this is Neal, Neal, Jones." Peter was so classy with his introductions.

Neal stood up from his desk and reached over when the agent held out his hand to the young boy. "I'm Clinton. Nice to meet you Neal."

"Pleased to meet you too, Clinton… What's your role here at the Bureau?"

"I work for Peter. Investigate cases and you know, catch lots of bad guys."

Neal liked the young man instantly. "Which case are you working on today, Clinton?"

"Get back to work, Neal." Peter instructed in his firm agent voice and then continued to discuss the file with Jones.

_Work? I could build a machine to do this job. In fact, haven't they already?_

A short time later, another visitor graced Peter's office.

"Boss, I have a lead on the Murphy case. I'm going to pay Mr Casey a visit."

"You want to take Jones?"

"No. I just need to check up on some of the details he made in his statement that don't add up to the record on the surveillance tape."

"I'll go with you." A mumbled voice sounding less than enthusiastic broke into the conversation.

The female agent hadn't paid any attention to the young kid lying with his head on the desk in the corner.

"Neal, sit up." Peter ordered upon realizing the kid's prone state.

"You must be Neal Caffrey… nice hat."

Neal gave the beautiful young woman the Caffrey smile but it disappeared quickly when Peter demanded, "Take the hat off in here, please."

The agent returned her attention to the task at hand. "I'm heading off now boss."

"Call me as soon as you're done."

Neal waited until the door was shut, "Who's that?"

"That's Diana. Diana's my probie."

"Probie?"

"Probationary agent. She does everything I don't, she's very good at her job and if you're finished with those booklets, I have some blank forms here that need stamping."

-W-C-

"How was your first week man? I'm glad you've been allowed out on weekend release."

The two friends were standing by the river after an aimless trek around the city streets. Neal picked up a large rock and tossed it angrily into the water. "It's not good Moz."

"The 'work experience' program? He does know that it's an incredible insult to your intelligence?"

Neal sighed heavily. "It's excruciating, Mozzie. I don't know what's worse, stapling 505 forms with a note that says this form has now being replaced with the 506 or taking wedding orders for people who can't decide if they want to go with the aqua blue or marine blue at the top of place card holders."

"Geez man, you've really let yourself go. Can't say I thought I'd ever see the day."

"Thanks for the pep talk." Another rock was tossed into the dark void of the water below. "You do realise I'm far from a willing participant in this latest scheme to keep me on the straight and narrow?"

"Fine then. Why not, oh I don't know, say thanks anyway but no way in hell I'm going to do it!"

Neal sat back on the park bench and rested his head in his hands. "Not so easy, Moz. After my little vacation away from home a few weeks ago..."

"When you ran away."

"I needed a little vacation, okay?"

"Potatoes, Patartoes."

"Anyway," Neal shot Mozzie a glare, "Peter had a talk with me, which didn't go down too well, and as soon as he left, I rang Kate to tell her there would be a short delay with the Urbino Project due to a slight hiccup with the materials required and during the call I may have mentioned that I was keen to get out."

"Really?"

"So, before you get too excited, she talked me into sticking it out just a little while longer and convinced me that everything would be fine."

"And you believed her?"

Neal stood up and walked over to lean against the safety rail. "She told me if in the unlikely event the con fell apart, she would protect me and I wouldn't have anything to worry about… And yes, I believed her."

"Okay then." Mozzie tried to sound supportive even if he didn't feel it. "So what's the dilemma? Do what you need to for Kate, get out, and live happily ever after. What am I missing?"

"The 'Peter factor.'"

"It always comes back to the suit." It was Mozzie's turn to sigh.

"He's made it quite clear, I'm no longer allowed to do my thing."

"Forgive me if this sounds like self-explanatory, but can't you, you know, just do it anyway?"

Neal looked away into the distance, remembering the earlier 'discussion.' "I'm not in a big hurry to get punished again."

Mozzie chuckled while patting Neal's shoulder. "Worried about a little swat to your pants my young friend?"

_If only._ "Peter may have hinted a few weeks back at raising the bar on the consequences and since that little chat, the scales have been tipped slightly in favour of toeing the line and living inside the law."

Mozzie's tone turned more serious once again, "You have to do what's in your best interest, Neal, not Kate's and certainly not the creep that's pulling her strings."

_Yeah, but how do I convince the 'puppet master'?_


	11. Chapter 11

Peter pulled up his socks and slid his feet into the superbly polished shoes. "Are you nervous, Buddy?"

Neal rolled over on the bed and looked up at the older man, "No, are you?"

"A little. I thought you might be a bit anxious about your part in the ceremony today?"

"What? Singing in front of everyone? No, of course I'm not anxious. Peter, how silly of you to think I might be shy."

"Yeah, what was I thinking?" Peter looked around for his bottle of Valium before realising it was only in his dream that he had acquired a script for the relaxant.

"I'm actually looking forward to testing out my vocal range within the church."

_What a surprise._ Peter collected his cuff links off the dresser. "In that case do you think I could make another request?"

"Sure." Neal knelt up on the bed to assist Peter who was struggling with the cuffs.

"Tonight, when El and I dance, will you sing a song for us?"

"Of course. Which one?" Neal was nicely surprised.

"Earth Angel by the Penguins. Do you know it?"

"I think so. In any case, I'll learn it easily." Neal rolled back onto the bed and rested his head on the pillow. "Any reason behind the choice, Peter?"

The agent looked a little embarrassed. "Have you ever seen 'Back to the Future'?"

"No."

Peter rolled his eyes. _What planet is this kid from?_ "Well there's a scene during the high school dance when it looks like George McFly and his wife Loarraine may not get together and then their son, Marty saves the future by playing 'Earth Angel' with the band." Peter recongnised he was rambling. "Anyway, it's just a really nice song and I'd appreciate it, if you wouldn't mind."

"No problem."

"Are you going to get ready?" Peter only became aware that while he was fully dressed, Neal was still lazing on the hotel room bed in his pajamas.

"Chill, Peter. We still have over an hour before we need to leave."

"Well, okay. But don't wait till the last minute."

Neal was going to respond but he suddenly realised it didn't deserve one. Instead, he hopped up and acquired a little gift box from out of his satchel. The slightly nervous wreck had sat back on the bed to re-tie his shoelaces. "Peter?"

"Yeah, Buddy?"

Neal stood in front of the agent. "I have something for you…I paid for it with my savings, even have the Bloomingdales' receipt so no need to be all concerned." Neal passed the box into Peter's hand.

Peter looked into the child's precious blue eyes before pulling him into a tight hug. The embrace lasted a while. Neal had the feeling that Peter was composing himself, again. Finally, Neal was released and broke the silence by suggesting that Peter open the present.

Inside was a classic silk tie with a slight royal blue pattern through the textured material. "Hope you like it."

"It's perfect Neal. Thank you." Peter began to remove his standard black tie which had been carefully selected for the wedding outfit.

"What are you doing?" Neal asked in surprise.

"I'm going to wear it today."

"But you can't. It won't match mine, or Dr Bryant's for that matter."

Peter smiled at his boy while he threaded his gift through under his shirt collar. "Neal, in years to come, when I look back on our wedding day and study the photos, what do you think will be more important to me, that my tie matches my best mans and junior groomsman or that I'm wearing something dear to me that my son gave to me on my wedding day?"

"Mom won't be happy."

"I'll take care of Mom. Single or double windsor?"

"Double."

-W-C-

Neal's eyes wandered around the massive Cathedral. He was impressed with the beautifully featured architecture of the internal structure and was in awe of the fine detailed religious art lining the walls that were unique to the Catholic Church. It was an intimate group that had gathered with pleasure to attend the Wedding of Ms Elizabeth Caffrey to Mr Peter Burke. Neal looked around Dr Bryant to check that Peter was still breathing. A few times during the morning, the young boy thought he may have to call someone to have Peter resuscitated when he forgot to breathe and his face turned pale. At one point, Neal brushed his skin against Peter's palms and he couldn't get over how sweaty the older man's hands had become. So Neal took it upon himself to settle the agent's nerves by telling stories and showing off card tricks. Eventually, Peter began to relax and so far, everything had gone off without a hitch.

The invitees congregated in the first couple of pews and turned with anticipation when the organ began to play. Neal looked at the back of Reece Hughes and his wife and wondered if a man of so little personality could ever enjoy such a joyous occasion. Reece was standing next to Diana who brought along her girlfriend, Christy. Both were dressed in classic black and looked stunning together. Clinton had brushed up nicely. He had his arm around a date but unfortunately, nobody could remember the girl's name. Neal hoped that Clinton could. Might be embarrassing otherwise. June sat in the seat behind Clinton. She looked full of class and Neal was happy that she was able to make it. True to her word, she had called Neal a few days after the day they met and invited him over for lunch. Since then, Neal had visited at least once a week, usually on a Friday after his 'chores' were complete and had made a habit of bringing Satchmo along for a play date with Bugsy. Neal had invited Mozzie to the wedding and after a good deal of arm twisting and a couple of threats, he reluctantly agreed to attend, but only under official protest, whatever that meant. The faithful friend sat in one of the pews towards the back along with some passer-bys who had stepped into the church to have a sticky-beak at the wedding.

Neal heard his cue and moved up to the alter to sing his mother's request, Ava Maria. The congregation turned back at the sound of his breathtakingly angelic voice filling the Cathedral. Neal enjoyed that part, when everyone looked at him but then they all slowing turned again to check out the real attraction. As Neal continued to serenade the group, the bridesmaid came walking down the aisle. El's sister Jenny had flown up from where she lived in Cancun, especially for the wedding. Jenny was closely followed by the Matron-of-Honour, Dana Mitchell, El's best friend all the way back to high school. Her husband John was sitting next to June.

A moment later, Elizabeth came into view on the arms of Mr Phillips, El's old boss from the downtown art gallery where she had worked until recently. El looked stunning. Neal almost forgot the words of the song at the sight of his mother looking every bit the princess he envisioned. El was wearing a strapless ivory tulle gown with a diamante covered bodice. Simply stunning. As Neal brought the hymn to a close, he looked across at Peter who had tears of pride. He was to hear later though, that only half the tears were for El, the others were for his son and his exceptional rendition of Ava Maria. Peter took his beautiful partner's hands at the foot of the alter and vowed silently before all who were present to never let this exquisite treasure slip through his fingers.

The traditional ceremony lasted a while and eventually Peter and El followed the priest up to the alter along with their two witnesses, Dana and Andy, to sign the marriage certificate. Neal stepped up to his mark once again, this time to sing 'All things bright and beautiful.' El had let him choose something to sing while the certificate was being signed even though Neal caught on after a number of failed suggestions that it was a very short list he was able to choose from! This particular hymn had been the compromise and Neal was pretty sure it would be a perfect fit to bring a more upbeat vibe into the expected lull in the proceedings. He was right.

-W-C-

After the obligatory photo shoot, in which Peter threatened to have the photographer arrested and charged for something that he would quite happily make up if he was required to pose in one more 'outrageous' position, the wedding party were gratefully released and allowed to join the other guests at the reception. Dana had organized the reception venue, the loan of an incredible Manhattan apartment with a roof top terrace that overlooked Central Park. The wedding party got into the swing of the celebration without hesitation. It was a fun, casual event with dancing, cake and lots of alcohol. Neal managed to snare a glass or two of champagne before El ripped a third drink out of his hands and threatened to break his fingers if she found another in his possession. The kid settled for orange juice after that.

The girls had all kicked off their shoes and everyone was happily dancing with anyone who wasn't off getting a refill, after all, dancing was thirsty work, when Neal checked with Peter if he was ready for his request. After getting the nod, Neal took control of the microphone.

"Hey all!" The guests stopped and turned their attention to the junior groomsman "Thank you all for coming tonight. Looks like everyone's having a smashingly good time." People cheered and Neal snared a glass of wine off a waiter sailing by with a try of newly filled drinks. "Cheers!" He took a quick swig and disposed of the evidence after a stern glare from his mother. "Okay. I have a special request from Agent Burke for his incredibly beautiful new bride, Elizabeth Burke." Peter walked over and took El's hand. The guests made a small circle around the couple on the dance floor. Neal continued, "This song was chosen by Peter because he knows that no matter how much trouble Mom and he get into, their son will always save the day. Is that right Pap'pa?"

"Not even close, Buddy." Everyone laughed.

"Okay, so I may have misunderstood Peter's little parable earlier, my apologies. This one's for newly weds!" More cheers as Neal began to sing beautifully, 'Earth Angel, Earth Angel, Will you be mine, My darling dear, Love you all the time….."

Peter pulled El in close and the two wrapped themselves up in each other entirely and were totally oblivious to the guest gradually joining in their moment of bliss.

-W-C-

"No way!"

"Why not Baby Seal?"

"Because it's your honeymoon, Mam'ma, and I'm not going to crash it."

Peter and El were on the couch while one very upset teenager paced back and forth across the rug.

"It's a week at the Bahamas, Neal. Walking on soft white sand, the aqua blue water washing over your ankles, snorkeling on the reefs with tropical sea creatures."

"Did you just give me the same spiel you're travel agent gave you Peter?"

"Maybe. But doesn't it sound inviting? Aren't you even the slightest bit tempted to work on your tan and check out the local talent?"

El spun and glared at Peter. Neal's cheeks went a slight shade redder than they already were upon hearing that he was expected to go on his parent's honeymoon. Maybe if he was fourteen months but he wasn't he was fourteen years old and it was just degrading.

"I'm not going. You two have a great time. Thank you for offering but I'll be fine here."

"Not going to happen, Neal. If you are that intent on not coming then we'll work something else out."

The something else turned out to be someone else – Diana. She agreed to look after Neal for the week and would supervise him at the office. Neal and Dianna had built a respectable relationship over the past month and as Peter allowed Neal a little more freedom, the junior agents came to appreciate the young boy for his knowledge, talents and as a simple distraction from the daily grind. Peter and El also worked out an arrangement with June. She offered for the boy to sleep over at her house which Neal happily agreed to after comprehending that the alternative was sleeping on Diana's couch. June was looking forward to having the young chap and his puppy stay with her for a short while. She always enjoyed his company and found his passion and enthusiasm contagious. Neal was happy with the deal. Better than hanging around the newly weds while they…he cringed. He didn't even want to go there.

-W-C

The plan went smoothly. El and Peter lazed on the golden sands and allowed the crisps clear waters to wash over their feet. June and Neal listened to classical music, played cards and watched old movies before bed each night and Diana found supervising the fourteen year old pretty straightforward. Yes all went well. Well, until midweek when Neal took off for a lunch break and didn't return. Diana talked herself into calming down after accepting the fact that they'd be plenty of time to kill the child after she found him safe and sound.

-W-C-

Diana grabbed Neal by the ear lifting him from his seat. "What the hell? Diana!"

"Card games over boys. FBI." Diana held up her badge with her spare hand. "Leave now before I arrest all of you." Upon seeing the badge, the young delinquents didn't have to be told twice. They were out of there, excepting one of the young punks who reached for the money on the table. "Don't even consider it." The young guy withdrew his arm and took off in the direction of his mates. Diana released Neal who looked more angry than concerned that he'd been sprung. When Neal went to collect his winnings, Diana swiped his arm away and took possession of all the money on the table. She scooped it all into a clear evidence bag then grabbed Neal's upper arm and dragged him out of the building, towards her car.

"What are you going to do with that money, Diana? It's my money."

"No Neal. It's not. It's money gained illegally. Imagine if NYPD busted you. What a great present for El and Peter to come home to. Did you have a nice time on your honeymoon Mr and Mrs Burke? That's great. You can collect your son from Juvenile Hall right after you collect your bags from carousel three."

"Good on you, Diana," Neal responded sarcastically.

When they arrived at the car, a couple of nuns with a stand for the GoodWill had set up right beside Diana's car. She took that as a sign and deposited the money, much to Neal's horror into their tin.

"Diana!" Neal yelled but to no avail. The money was gone.

Diana stood over the young kid, pointing a stern finger right into his line of vision."You do something stupid like that again, Neal and I'm going to break one, or even both of your arms. Clear?"

"Yes, Diana."

-W-C-

"So the lady suit is babysitting you this week eh man?" They were sitting up on the terrace at June's. A chess game in progress positioned between the two friends. "Should be able to make a little progress while the folks are away? Lady suit a pushover?"

Neal looked irritably at Moz then turned his attention back to the game. Raising his hand he swiped the chess pieces with all his might clear across the terrace.

"Okay. Maybe not."


	12. Chapter 12

Peter felt like a new man upon returning to work after his week in the sun. If fact he was a new man. New haircut, new tan (although you had to look closely), new clothes and a new bride. Life didn't get much better!

Everything was running smoothly in all departments, most departments. According to Diana, Neal had tried his level best to get himself thrown in the lock-up while the folks were away which is not what the agent wanted to hear on his way through the door, after all, he was a new man. Diana's report had explained why Neal had been ever so compliant over the weekend and on his very best behaviour. Perhaps Peter could milk that to his advantage and buy himself an easy week with the troublesome teenager. If not, he could always revert back to his original plan of action.

After the agent settled in, he found himself impressed with the way his department was running like a well oiled machine. Maybe he should go away more often. The junior agents had even managed to get close to cracking a couple of annoying cases. One in particular was sitting before him when Jones came in with the updated file. "Here's that latest information on the James Bonds case you asked for Boss."

Neal's ears picked up at the mention of a case. Any case, he didn't care, he'd listen in discreetly for a bit of the juice. Peter rarely spoke about cases in front of him so he took anything he could. "Seems they decided to cash some of the bonds. We've got surveillance video." Jones continued to inform Peter of the new Intel.

"Okay. And Jones," he stopped the young agent on his way out the door. "Can you let Atlantic know that we have a strong lead and get them to check if they can place the connection?"

"Sure, Peter."

After Jones left, Neal walked quietly to the door, "Where are you going?" Peter inquired.

"Bathroom?" Neal looked pale and sounded unsure of himself. "That okay with you, master?" The boy strengthened his resolve when he saw inquisitiveness creep into the agent's features.

"Fine. And don't be cheeky." So much for the best behaviour.

"Yes, Peter."

Neal stood in the White Collar Records File Room. It was now on the list of places he was allowed as long as he only retrieved and returned the material for Peter. Files were not to be opened. Opening files could get an offender a rap across the knuckles or a visit to Reece Hughes' office and we wouldn't want that would we? Neal took out his phone and quietly hit a series of numbers.

"Hey…Yeah it's me…You idiot. You told me you weren't going to cash the bonds….I want to talk….Meet me at the Tea Room in thirty." Neal pocketed his phone and turned to find Peter, hands on hips, standing in the doorway.

"Neal?"

"Yeah."

"Whatcha doing?"

"I…I just came in here to take a phone call from Mozzie. He's having a bad day. Making some pretty stupid decisions about taking out his girlfriend to the Tea Room for their first anniversary. I told him he should cash in some bonds his mother gave him for his birthday to take her somewhere nice but he wouldn't listen. Sorry, Peter."

Peter listened to the complete load of BS and followed the young boy back to the office. "Mozzie doesn't have a mother."

"Actually I meant foster mother." Neal quickly busied himself in the paperwork on his desk and Peter returned to his other investigations.

-W-C-

They left the office on time, for a change. El had invited June over for dinner and the boys had strict instructions to be punctual. Neal threw his satchel onto the back seat and was about to climb in the front when he was stopped by a firm hand holding his upper arm. "Peter?"

"Neal." Peter used his free hand to lift Neal's chin so the agent could get a good look at the young boy's face. He removed the hat and tossed it inside the car. "Neal, when the hell did you get this?" Peter pointed at the kid's right eye which was red rimmed and was beginning to show the signs of bruising.

"When did I get what, Peter?" The agent's face turned a darker shade and Neal could swear there was steam emanating off the older man so he took that as a hint to make up a story fast. "Oh, you mean this?" Neal pointed to the area which Peter had moments before.

"Yes, Neal. I'm talking about your black eye!" Peter's normally calm composure had given way to a panicked father who was going to have to explain the injury to one very concerned mother.

"When I went to the bathroom earlier, I dropped the soap and as I reached down to get it, my arm slipped on the soapy surface and my eye ran into the faucet." Neal looked up to see if his bogus story had been at all believable.

"GET. IN!"

_Not even close._ The ride home was silent while Peter strategized what to do with the young boy when he arrived. It wasn't like he could send him to his room and hide him from El. June would be looking forward to catching up. If only he had noticed earlier, he could have stopped the bruising with ice and whatever else he could find at the pharmacy. Peter finally broke the silence. "We don't have cakes of soap in the office bathrooms. Only soap dispensers. Wouldn't want one of those to drop on your foot. You should be more careful." Peter's reprimand was sarcastic and cutting and Neal slunk further into his seat hoping that the ride home was without any delays.

Of course, as predicted, El and June were all over the young boy and his 'bruised and battered' face. Peter got the official dressing down while cleaning up the kitchen with El after their guest had headed off for the night and he promised his wife that he'd get to the bottom of it.

-W-C-

"Neal. NEAL."

"Huh?" Neal buried his head deeper under the pillow trying to block out the annoying sound.

"Get up Neal. You're supposed to be ready. It's time to leave." Peter was a little surprised that Neal wasn't at breakfast and even more surprised that he was still in bed. Neal was always very punctual. "Neal?"

"Go away. I only just got to sleep."..._Oh surely I didn't say that out loud?_ Neal rolled his head and slowly opened one eye. One look at Peter told him his answer.

The statement had been mumbled into the mattress but Peter heard it anyway. "Neal," Peter spoke in that oh so patient tone that Neal referred to as the calm before the storm. "You have exactly ten minutes to be downstairs, ready for work or I'm coming back up to give you 'a hand.'" And with that, the agent left the young boy's room knowing full well there would be a mad scramble to the shower the minute he stepped out the door.

When Peter got to work, on time, Neal had been downstairs in five, Peter looked up Neal's cell log from the day before and of course the phone call he had made from the file room had gone straight to a burn phone.

-W-C-

"Oh Neal, it's incredible."

"Thanks Kate." Neal's grin spread from cheek to cheek. He was sitting up on a sorting bench and his feet were swinging freely under the bench top. "You think it'll pass?"

"It's perfect." The nineteen year old reached up and kissed the boy on his forehead. She placed the Raphael back into the packaging box that Neal had transported his project in. "How did you get away?"

"Oh, Peter's pretty caught up in a case today. He's in and out of the office and if he does look, he'll just assume I'm at lunch. ... So Kate," the kid jumped down off the bench and followed the young woman into the storage room. It was filled with a large assortment of paintings, jewelry, ornaments and little treasures that had once been in the possession of some very wealthy New Yorkers. "I'm ready for a break. I want to step out of the game for a while."

Kate turned from her sorting and gave Neal her full attention. "Pip." She placed both hands on his shoulders and spoke in a sweet, motherly tone. "We've talked about this already."

"I know but everything is getting so complicated."

"But we kept our promise. You're not in any trouble are you?"

"No trouble excepting of course for the black eye your boyfriend gave me last week!" Neal was having a hard time getting through to Kate.

"Calm down. We had words." Kate picked up an antique porcelain bowl and wiped it with a soft cloth. "What's the real problem here?"

"I don't know. It just seems like a lot of pressure and I'm a little sick of the fact that the creep thinks he owns me forever."

"Now you know that's not true." Kate's voice began to suck Neal into the abyss that the boy always found shaking free from near impossible.

Neal shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know anymore."

"Listen, Pip. You tell me you don't enjoy it and I promise you I'll never involve you again."

Neal remained silent. Kate looked at him with those striking blue eyes of hers and trapped the young kid in a trance. After a long moment, he snapped himself back to reality and was about to answer the young woman when a great commotion came through the back door. "FBI!"

Neal all but jumped out of his skin upon hearing Peter's voice and he quickly scrambled for cover.

Kate casually walked out of the storeroom, hands in the air and was swiftly handcuffed by Diana.

Peter made his way over to the young criminal while at the same time holstering his gun. As he got within a few feet of the women, he stopped and studied her face. Kate? That Kate? This Kate Moreau was the same girl he had seen in the photo inside Neal's book. Peter was speechless for a few more moments before declaring, "Kate Moreau. You're under arrest for bond forgery and organized criminal activities."

Diana whisked the young woman off to the car, passing Jones on the way out, who was in the middle of carrying in loads of cataloging equipment.

Peter checked out the storeroom and shook his head at the impressive collection of stolen property. It would take a while to sort through this booty. He was about to head back out again when his gut sensed another presence in the small room. He placed his hand on his revolver while glancing around, and discovered one possible hiding location – under the shelving against the back wall there was a small gap between the floor and the bottom shelf. Investigating further, he crouched down and sure enough a pair of size eight boots. The gut was never wrong. He holstered his gun and stepped quietly over. Most likely it was one of Kate's kiddy gang members and there was a fair possibility that the child may need to be charged as an accomplice. Peter grabbed the boots and dragged the suspect out from under the bench. His eyebrows shot up high to his hairline at the sight he saw lying on the floor at his feet.

"Agent Burke," the young boy flashed a dazzling smile up at Peter.

"Neal Caffrey…You're un…You're in a hell of lot of trouble young man." Peter growled as he reached down and yanked Neal to his feet.

"Yeah…So what else is new?" Neal grumbled to himself.

-W-C-

Peter paced back and forth within the confines of his office. Young Neal sat across the table from him. The agent kept shaking his head and Neal was beginning to get a little concerned that Peter might just give himself a stroke.

"Peter?" Neal tried but the agent held up a hand to stop any further words escaping the young boy's mouth.

After what seemed like an eternity Peter finally sat in his chair and glared at the young delinquent across the table. "Explain to me please what the hell you were doing in a storeroom full of stolen property?"

"I was visiting my friend Kate."

"Some friend Neal. She is about to be charged with heading an organized crime gang and cashing in forged bonds."

Neal looked down, devastated by the news.

"What's your part in all of this, Neal?" Neal could see the veins pulsing on the side of Peter's temples. The kid had never seen the agent so angry. Neal felt angry too although he didn't quite know why.

"I don't know what you want me to say Peter. Why don't you ask, Kate since she's the 'leader' and all?"

"We already have."

"And what did she tell you?"

"That you were just a young kid that she's met once or twice and you swung by to see if she'd like to go to the movies sometime."

Neal smiled. He knew he could count on Kate.

Peter saw the smile and continued his reprimand. "But you and I both know Neal that's a load of crap!" Luckily the room was reasonably sound proof and not too many agents below turned to see what the yelling was all about.

Peter forced himself to calm down. He got up and resumed his pacing. "If I were to take an educated guess, I'd say there's a very good possibility that you could help Jones catalogue the stolen property and tell him exactly where every piece has come from."

"Not every piece." Neal whispered but Peter heard him anyway. The agent slammed his hand down hard on the desk sending Neal almost tumbling out of his seat.

The pacing continued. "If I were to play another hunch, I'm guessing that you could draw a perfect copy of the forged Atlantic Bonds for the evidence team to analyze and I bet they wouldn't even be able to tell the difference between yours and the ones that were cashed."

"I should hope not." Neal smirked at the amusing thought. Peter didn't find it at all amusing and he displayed his displeasure by pulling the kid up out of his chair and landing three particularly hard swats to his backside. Neal was more than a little horrified that Peter didn't seem to care that the swats were in full view of the white collar bull pen.

"And if I were a betting man, I'd place good money on the chance that if we analyzed the forged Raphael found in the storeroom this afternoon, it would match the paint remnants on the easel in your bedroom." Peter waited for a smart retort, but the boy was way too concerned with rubbing the sting out of his butt.

"Now both you and I know that all of these accusations are going to be very difficult to prove, especially since your girlfriend is protecting your butt."

"I disagree with that."

"Which part? The part where I said she was your girlfriend or the part where she is protecting your butt?"

"Both?" Neal really didn't know what he thought.

"Without additional evidence, this department won't continue to pursue the investigation into your involvement any further. We have bigger fish to fry so it looks like you're off the hook Neal." Peter pointed his finger directly at Neal as he spoke and the young kid couldn't tell if the agent was disappointed or not that there wasn't more evidence.

Neal thought that may be the cue to discreetly move out of Peter's way for a little while so he took a cautious step towards the door. The agent however was far from finished and continued with his rant. "Rest assured Neal that while Agent Burke is moving his focus to the masterminds of this little operation, your discussion with 'père' is far from over!"


	13. Chapter 13

Peter and his young charge sat for a good ten minutes in the Taurus parked outside their Brooklyn home. It was dark out so they could see El walking around inside the softly lit living room. Finally the agent spoke. "I'm going to be talking with your mom for a while. I want you to wait in your room. Give me your phone."

Without question, Neal reached into his satchel and pulled out his Blackberry. He passed it to Peter.

"And the other one." The agent held out his hand and was immediately presented with a similar phone.

"After I've explained the situation to El, I'll be up to continue our discussion."

"Feel free to leave our chat if you …"

"Neal. Let me give you some advice. At this point, it is in your very best interest to say nothing at all. Just nod your head. Try it please."

Neal nodded.

"And if you need to, 'Yes Peter' will be acceptable."

"Yes, Peter."

"Good. See you _can_ learn." Peter opened his door, climbed out and waited impatiently for the young kid to follow. "Now Neal!"

"Yes, Peter."

-W-C-

Peter hung his coat and watched the young boy all but fly up the stairs to avoid any interaction with his mom. El knew from the expression on Peter's face that it hadn't been a good day so she started with a substantial hug and an offer to get them both a coffee. Dinner could wait.

Peter broke the news gently that their fourteen year old son was a major player in an organized criminal gang of juvenile delinquents. He explained that a young woman by the name of Kate Moreau, an acquaintance of Neal's had been arrested and was facing various charges including bond forgery. It appeared as though Neal may have been involved in creating the forgeries but there was no evidence to prove it. Reece Hughes had sat in on Kate's interview and he approved Neal being let off with just a slap on the wrist. Peter confided in El that he suspected Neal had also been involved in the theft of a good portion of the stolen property recovered at the scene although once again there was no proof to back up the claim. And while El displayed many emotions during the debriefing, surprise was not one of them.

-W-C-

Neal threw his hat and jacket onto the floor near his wardrobe and changed into a t-shirt. Suddenly he felt uncharacteristically warm in his dress shirt and tie. He began to pace his bedroom floor, echoing the actions of Peter in the office earlier. The young kid had many emotions flowing through his veins as he mulled over the events of the day.

Peter would be up soon and he had no doubt where that highly anticipated visit would end – across 'father's' knee with his belt connecting with one very sorry backside. The warning had been crystal clear and to date, Peter had never given the boy any indication that he was into bluffing. Neal stopped his pacing and yanked open the antique doors of his wardrobe. _Damn. Why don't I own any corduroy pants?_ He'd have to invest in some later, but for now a pair of jeans would have to do.

-W-C-

Peter left his wife sitting on the sofa to ponder over their conversation and headed up to the third floor. But fifteen minutes later, El found Peter had only made it as far as the second, and the haggard looking agent was leaning heavily against the dresser in the master bedroom.

"You okay, hon?" El walked over and guided Peter to sit with her at the end on the bed.

"To be honest, not really."

El pulled Peter in close for a hug. She noticed he'd changed into some more casual clothes and his hair was wet from where it looked like he'd splashed a lot of water onto his face. "Well you've come to the right place because I have a secret remedy."

"You have? That's quite ingenious seeing as how you're yet to make a diagnosis." El was happy to see Peter's smile return.

"Of course I've made a diagnosis." Peter raised his eyebrows in disbelief and couldn't wait to hear. "For some reason, you don't feel up to punishing Neal," Peter nodded, correct. "But you know he expects it, for sure he deserves it and you feel like you'd be letting us all down if you backed down from a task you consider has become your responsibility...That something like it?"

"In a nut shell!"

El looked proud of herself but then queried, "There's more?"

"Yeah." Peter sighed heavily. "Last time I punished Neal after he stole the paints and ran away, I gave him a spanking but felt that while I made a point, it did very little to discourage any further incidents. So I told him if he got into that type of trouble again, I would use my belt on him."

"I see." El reflected in light of this new information. "You know that's what he's expecting and you feel like it might be detrimental if you don't follow through. And it's not something you really considered a possibility at the time?"

"Yeah, pretty much. I don't know what I was thinking. I knew it was only a matter of time but I didn't think it would be quite so soon, perhaps a little way down the track and we would have to revise the warning. Who knew?"

"I guess we did. If we were honest with ourselves." Peter looked questioningly. "It's called denial Peter."

"Is that what it's called?" Peter smiled again knowing El was spot on. "So what was your remedy?"

El rested her head against her husband's chest to work out an answer while Peter examined the threads on the comforter. Both noticed immediately the two bare feet that appeared on the carpet in front of where they were sitting.

"Mam'ma, it's getting late. Do you want me to put the dinner on?" Neal had been unable to wait it out in his room any longer.

El gave the older man a knowing look and without having to say a word, Peter knew his wife was about to explain her remedy.

El hopped off the bed and stood in front of her young son. "Neal. Peter and I have just been talking about you." Neal smiled at both parents. "And no Neal, it wasn't an especially pleasant conversation."

Neal stopped smiling and began to study the rug on the floor. Why hadn't he waited in his room?

"Look at me, Neal!" The boy's eyes shot up to look directly at his mother while the knots in his stomach twisted ever so tightly.

"You stole some of those items Peter found at the storeroom today. Yes or no Neal?"

Neal pleaded, "Ne vous laissez Peter prendre soin?"

Peter chuckled as he made the translation in his head, 'Can't you just let Peter take care of this?' And then much to the delight of Elizabeth and the displeasure of the young boy, Peter ordered, "Répondre à votre mere."

"Yes, I stole some of those items," was the whispered response.

"Did you have a part in creating the forged bonds?" When Neal looked away, El grabbed his chin and refocused his attention in the correct direction.

"Yes, Mam'ma"

"And it goes without saying that you forged the painting so I guess the question remains, how many others have there been?" Peter was impressed with his wife's interrogation technique. Perhaps if her business didn't work out?

Neal shrugged.

"Neal?" El growled.

"I'm not sure, Mom, honestly."

"Too many to count?"

"Yeah. Something like that."

El and Peter stood facing the junior felon across the bedroom floor while Neal contemplated his parent's next move. Was this going to be the moment Peter unbuckled his belt, ripping it out through the loops and swinging it harshly against his butt and legs? Unlikely. How about this, Peter would kick off his slipper, grab his arm and begin whacking his behind all the way into next year? The slipper was more Peter's style but still, it was unlikely that Peter would be so uncouth to administer a spanking without positioning him carefully across his knee. In any case, Peter wasn't wearing his slippers. Maybe Peter would just grab the waist at the back of his jeans and a chunk of his shirt and toss him out through the second floor window? Neal laughed on the inside at that visual. And in fact, it was probably his preferred option. His mom must have asked him something because suddenly he had his ear caught between her thumb and forefinger and she only ever did that on the rare occasion that he ignored her. He snapped back to reality. "Excuse me, Mam'ma?"

"I said 'bend over.'"

"Huh?"

El quickly became frustrated so she pulled the teenager to the edge of the bed herself and put pressure on his back till his hands automatically reached out to stop himself from falling. His hands came to a rest on the bed and Neal froze as realization hit of the position he found himself in.

"Mom?" Neal looked back just in time to see El pull back her arm and swing her very heavy, very solid wooden hairbrush against his backside.

"Aaarrrraaahhh!" Neal sprung up and spun to face his mother. "No, please. That really hurts, Mom." Neal didn't care if he sounded like a baby.

"Does it? Well I'm not finished yet so turn your butt around again and bend over." El was going to follow this through and she didn't have to think too hard to remind herself why it was necessary.

"Peter?"

Neal hopped that the man standing off to the side watching this unpleasant episode play out would intervene and be the voice of sanity but instead he offered, "I'll go get the dinner ready." And then he disappeared out the door.

Upon seeing the agent abandon him to his mother's wrath, Neal conceded that he would have to succumb to the punishment – something he had managed to avoid his entire life where his mom was concerned. What was his world coming to? Ever so slowly he turned and faced the bed before leaning over and placing his butt in an incredibly vulnerable position. The brush connected with his backside once again and by the third whack, tears were freely flowing from the teenager's eyes. How many more? As it turned out, just seven. El placed the brush down on the bed after the tenth and final whack and Neal joined it, collapsing forward and burying his head into the comforter while he cried out the last of his tears. His mom sat with him rubbing his back until he eventually rolled on his side, ready to talk.

"Baby Seal, no more please. I need an agreement from you tonight that there will be no more stealing, no more forgeries, no more involvement in criminal activities and no more disobeying our directions."

Neal leaned up on his elbow and told his mother truthfully, "Yes Mam'ma. You have my word. It's all over."

El was happy with that response knowing that at this moment in time, Neal truly believed what he was saying.

"Peter is pretty angry with me."

El tossled the top of her son's hair. "No Baby Seal. He's a little bit angry but mostly he's disappointed. He's tried really hard to be a great father and he's pretty much had to jump through hoops to keep you safe and out of trouble. Right now, he's feeling let down."

That comment stung worse than the brush. "I'd prefer it if he was angry with me."

"Well that's just the way it is. You brought it on yourself, you have to live with it." Neal appeared as though he was going to start crying again. "You can always fix it."

"How, Mam'ma?"

"Show him each and every day, that you do know what the right thing is to do, that you do listen and he has made a difference."

"I'm going to try. Don't know how successful I'll be. It's not an easy feat, Mam'ma."

"I know Baby Seal, but one day you'll realise that moms and dads don't expect their children to be perfect. They just expect them to be tucked safely away in their beds each night where they stay until they hop up to greet their parents with a loving kiss the following morning."

Neal understood. He gave his mom a loving kiss. "Okay."

El climbed off the bed. "Come down as soon as you're ready. Peter probably has the dinner on the table."

"Mam'ma?"

"Yes Baby?"

"You positive you couldn't have just let Peter take care of my 'indiscretions' today?"

El stopped on her way to the door. "He was going to use his belt. You sure that's what you would have preferred?" El smiled at her son.

_Yes actually_. "Peter would have never used his belt and you know it." Neal smiled back confidently.

"If you're so certain, you could always test out your theory."

"I'll be right." Neal stopped smiling.

"Thought so. See you downstairs."

Neal stayed on the bed, rubbing his sore butt long after his mom left the room. Yeah, the jeans were a useless idea. Some corduroy pants would be a fine investment. _Just in case._

-W-C-

A week later, Peter, El and their hopefully reformed wayward son sat around the dining table. Peter held out a small black circular device with a blinking red light.

"It's an electronic monitoring anklet. It will tell us where you are at all times. If you remove it an alarm will go off in my phone. If you leave the area I have designated as your radius, an alarm will go off. If…..."

"I get it Peter. It's not rocket science."

"Don't be smart, Neal."

"Yes Mam'ma. Excuse me Peter. What if I want to go somewhere like the Met and it's not in my radius?"

"Then you ring me and ask and I'll either approve it or tell you it'll have to wait until El or I can go with you."

"And what if I go anyway."

Peter knew Neal was fishing for the bottom line. He needed all the cards on the table so he could weigh up his standing on the matter. "If you break your radius, I'll suspect you are up to no good and I'll collect you from wherever you are, bring you back here and you'll get a spanking."

"Mam'ma!" Neal looked over at El for support.

"It's fair Neal. Things could be a whole lot worse right now and you know it. You're so lucky everything turned out the way it did."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't I already punished for his a week again?" Neal gave his mom a very pointed look.

"Neal," Peter's turn to answer. "This isn't a punishment. This is going to help you. I know that Kate wasn't the end of the line and you're only a child," Neal wanted to hit Peter for making that statement but he was too much of a gentleman, "and sometimes kids can't always think things through clearly." _Enough with the child references._ "If we know where you've been and what you're up to more accurately, we can use that to help you. In the end, it's going to lead to you having a lot of security. You'll find yourself stopping yourself because you know you'll be found out. It'll be good for us, but even better for you."

-W-C-

"What a load of crap!" Mozzie couldn't believe his ears.

Neal sat with his closet friend on the park bench trying to shake the annoying anklet off his leg.

Moz continued with his disapproval of the monitoring device. "I can't believe it man. Is that thing even legal. Can't you go to the department of justice and say, look, help?"

"I think he got it from the department of justice."

"Oh."

"I'm in a lot of trouble, Moz."

"The suit?"

"No. Well yeah it's all part of the bigger picture. I called the creep last night and told him it was over."

"And what did he say."

"He said it wasn't over by a long shot. And then he became very intimidating. He's a bit more unstable without Kate around and I've got to admit, I'm just a little bit nervous because I won't be able to do what he's asking," Neal lifted his leg to indicate the problem, "and sooner or later he's going to make good on his threats. I'm on a leash now so I can't do anything to help get him off my back."

"Can't you just do it anyway and tell the suit you didn't hear the alarm from your tracker. It is NY City after all. It's not beyond the realm of possibility that you'd miss hearing an alarm."

"True enough. Probably would work once, not twice and I need more opportunities than that. Any luck in working out a way to get this thing off me?" Neal lifted his leg indicating his ankle jewelry.

"No man. It's impossible." Neal looked deflated. "Can't you just tell the suit? Maybe he could help."

"No Moz I can't. We'll just have to work something else out."

-W-C-

Neal heard his phone go off in his satchel and pulled it out to retrieve the message.

'_Kate 18mths Moreton Juvie Cntr Upstate'_

Neal returned his phone and marched angrily over to stand in front of Peter's desk. He didn't say anything. Just glared.

Eventually Peter looked up from the file he had been reading. "What?"

"It's not Kate's fault, Peter." Neal's statement was laced with resentment.

"What's not Kate's fault, Neal?" Peter closed the folder he'd been studying and leaned back in his chair.

"Kate's been sent upstate to a Detention Centre and it's not even her fault. Can't you get anything right, Agent Burke?" Neal was barely in control of his anger.

Peter stood up behind his desk. He quickly became annoyed with the tone and the accusations being thrown across his desk. "Whose fault is it then Neal? The guy who picked you up the day you stole my notebook out of my car? The guy you met at the Tea Room and who sent you home with a black eye? The guy who keeps calling you and putting fear in your eyes?" Peter stood with his hands on his hips, daring the young boy to deny it. "Tell me I'm wrong Neal."

"Piss off Peter!" And with that, Neal stormed out of the office, down the stairs across the bullpen and didn't bother waiting for the lift. He took the 21 flights of stairs all the way to the lobby.

Peter watched out his window to see the direction the young boy would take. Not that he needed to, the tracker would give him an exact location. Within minutes, he saw a familiar figure head out into the middle of the plaza. He must have bolted down the stairs to make it to the ground level so quickly. Neal also knew that Peter would be watching so he turned around and gave Agent Burke the finger. It was so unlike Neal that Peter laughed knowing that the boy couldn't see him that well. Neal sat on the wall of the fountain that was centered in the middle of the Plaza and waited for the agent to make the next move.

Almost two hours later, the boy hadn't budged from his spot although he was now lying on the wall of the fountain, with one arm loosely dangling on each side while he gazed up to the darkening sky. Eventually, a shadow appeared blocking off the last remaining rays of sunlight and announced, "You ready to go home."

Neal studied the man, noticing he was carrying a briefcase, satchel, a small coat and hat. The boy stood with difficulty, he'd been lying on the hard brick wall for way too long and found himself, due to the additional height of the fountain wall, face to face with Peter.

Peter didn't say anything so Neal began, "So I suppose I'm going to be punished when we get home?" When he didn't get an answer he asked, "You're not into that whole soap thing are you?"

"What soap thing?" The older man looked confused.

"No never mind." Neal replied way too quickly. "Peter… I'm sorry I got angry with you upstairs earlier. I didn't mean it and what I said was wrong."

"And?" The agent raised his eyebrows hoping for more.

"And I'm sorry I gave you the finger."

"Thank you, Neal." Peter put the hat on the young boy's head and wrapped the coat around his shoulders. "You know, giving someone the finger is really very uncivilized, I was surprise you would consider using such an obscene gesture. I would have thought it'd be too crude for someone like yourself." The boy cringed. Peter was right. Again. "Imagine if your mom saw you doing that."

"We won't be telling her will we, Peter?" Neal's voice sounded slightly panicked.

"Not this time." Peter bent slightly, picked Neal up and began to carry him over his shoulder. The kid grabbed his hat before it dropped to the ground.

"Peter." Neal spoke the best he could while being carried towards the car.

"Yeah, Buddy." The agent for his part had no issue with managing his load of one young teenage boy on one shoulder and a briefcase and satchel over the other.

"I didn't run off you know. I stopped at the edge of the plaza and the plaza is technically part of the federal building."

"Yeah, I know." He smiled happily appreciating the face that the kid was making a huge effort to turn a corner, and Peter gave him credit for trying his best under circumstances that would be far from easy for even the strongest man.


	14. Chapter 14

The Bureau Family Christmas Party was traditionally held on the last weekend in November. Peter usually loathed the event. Having no family, he was all but required to attend regardless because he was a senior agent. This year was different. For the very first time, Peter couldn't wait. He brought the three of them matching Christmas shirts - it's what all the families did and he stuck the invite on the fridge in the kitchen at home so no one would double book the night.

Peter walked in proudly with El on his arm and Neal trailing miserably behind. The kid had put up quite a fight over his attire until Peter assured him it was non-negotiable. The trio made their way over to some familiar faces. El had met Agent David Watson and his wife Sally at a function mid-way through the year. The adults were chatting amongst themselves when Agent Watson's son returned with a sausage roll shoved in his mouth. Peter turned to his son, "Neal. This is Agent David Watson, Mrs Watson and their son, Jerry."

"Please to meet you." Neal acknowledged each person in turn.

"Jerry is your age Neal." Agent Watson indicated his son. "Jerry, why don't you show Neal to the food table. You obviously know where it is."

The boy self-consciously brushed the sausage roll crumbs off the front of his shirt and nodded his head in a sideway direction, "Let's go."

As soon as the two boys were out of ear shot of the oldies, Jerry couldn't help but tease, "Love your shirt man."

Neal shot back, "Yeah, yours is pretty hot too!" Both kids chuckled.

They stood looking at the selection of party food for a few moments before Jerry commented, "This is so lame."

"Yeah. How about I get us some champagne to knock the edge off?"

"Really. How?"

"Easy man. You want one?"

"Ah…no you go ahead. I can't. My dad would kick my butt if he found out."

Neal reconsidered, "Yeah, mine too. You're right."

"Hey look, the Enricoh twins are here."

"The Enricoh twins?" Neal looked around and spotted the two beautiful teenage girls Jerry was pointing out.

"Yeah. They go to my school. At last years Christmas party I teamed up with them for the scavenger hunt. They're pretty cool. You want to go and get a drink with them?" Jerry clarified, "A soda."

"Awesome plan."

Neal's opinion of the night improved out of sight with his introduction to the young ladies. The twin girls, Eleana and Emmy were really very sweet. They were interested to find out all about Neal and which school he went to and were suitably impressed in finding out that he had a 'job'. Before long, a small crowd of teenagers had gathered as Neal showed off a number of sleight of hand tricks. Everyone was amazed, especially Jerry who took credit for the latest attraction.

Neal got right into the swing of the party after that. He teamed up with Jerry and the twins for the scavenger hunt, which unbelievably they did pretty poorly at, but only because the boys were far more interested in entertaining the girls than looking for the items on their list.

Peter joined Neal for the parent/child three legged race. They made it halfway before the Peter took a tumble, bringing the kid to the floor with him. The agent claimed Neal sabotaged the race as pay back for the shirt but Neal maintained that the old man was uncoordinated and he could prove it if necessary.

El and Neal were the outright winners of the trivia doubles contest. There may have been some contention that an internet phone was used to cheat on the questions but that rumour most likely was started by Peter and his partner, Agent Watson when they didn't even make it to the second round.

As the evening drew to a close, the children were invited to 'gather round' as Santa made a grand entrance. Each and every kiddo was rounded up, even the reluctant participants, and asked to sit at the Big Guy's feet. The parents all stood forming a circle around the back of the children, possibly to stand guard in case a child tried to escape. Not that Neal did!

Santa began to announce names and each child took a turn to head up to collect a present from the man in red. Neal had Jerry on one side and Emmy on the other. Eleana sat on the far side of Jerry. Somehow, Neal acquired a napkin and pen and while he 'eagerly' awaited his name to be called, he sketched an awesome little drawing of Emmy and signed it, NC. He handed it to her and she gave him a gorgeous smile in return. Yep, Neal was already looking forward to next year's party.

"Neal Caffrey." _Oh man, here we go._ Neal looked back to where El and Peter were standing. It was almost like a last minute check to make sure he absolutely had to go up to collect his gift. _Yeah, that's affirmative._

Neal took his place beside 'Santa.' "Have you been a good boy this year, Neal?"

_Oh you've got to be kidding me!_ "Ah…" What type of a loaded question was that anyway? Neal could no more lie to 'Santa Clause' than he could to his mom or Peter. "Ah…I'd have to look up the definition of 'good.'" Neal hoped that would be enough.

It was. Santa gave Neal his present, "Merry Christmas, Neal."

Neal had seen enough kids collecting presents to know the drill. After receiving the present from Santa, the child opened the present and showed the little crowd of faces the contents of the gift earning them a cheer from the crowd. Too bad if the kid unwrapped a handkerchief or a home-made scarf. Not that it happened. The kids all seemed pretty happy with their gifts. Neal cautiously pulled on the bow. What could it possibly be? He remembered a month or so ago, Peter bringing home a Christmas Party information form to be filled out. It went something along the lines of 'What do you like to eat? What do you like to drink? What are you hopping Santa might bring you for Christmas?' And there was a space to write down at least three ideas. Neal had initially thrown it into the bin but retrieved it when Peter gave him 'that disappointed look.' Peter explained patiently that every child who attended the Christmas party received a present, regardless of their age and Neal had wanted to scream at the top of his voice that he wasn't a child. But he didn't, instead rationalizing that there should be some acceptable cut off age like maybe three! In the end, Peter won and Neal reluctantly filled out the form.

What do you like to eat? :- chopped onion, sour cream and a side of caviar;

What do you like to drink? :- A fine glass of Pinot Noir;

What are you hoping Santa might bring you for Christmas? :- I don't need anything from 'Santa'. I already have everything I could ever want. Please give my gift to someone less fortunate.

As Neal began to remove the lid from his present he suddenly realised his error in judgment in not filling out the form correctly. He could still hear Peter's voice in his head, "If you don't put down a suggestion, someone picks something for you anyway." The gift felt a little heavy for a handkerchief, but not for a set of silk boxers and a matching puppy t-shirt. He looked over at Emmy, Jerry and Eleana. Why, oh why didn't he put down something safe like a Greatest Hits CD. _Neal you always do everything the hard way!_ Neal pulled off the lid and was relieved to find a baseball glove looking up from inside. He let out the breath he'd been holding and held up the glove. While he was getting his cheer, Santa instructed, "Try it on. It's a long way to return it if it doesn't fit."

_Almost over, Neal._ "Okay Big Guy." Neal slid his fingers into the glove but pulled them out to investigate when some type of blockage stopped his fingers from going all the way in. After making a visual inspection, he removed the obstruction that turned out to be a neatly folded sheet of crisp white paper. Neal forgot for a moment that there were many sets of eyes on him and proceeded to carefully unfold the mystery letter. He gave the single sheet a quick scan - 'New York Sate Adoption Office.' It was his adoption certificate – well it looked like a photocopy of his adoption certificate. Neal suspected the original was in a very safe place back at home. The young boy looked thankfully over to Peter and El while the crowd gave him a second cheer, even though most were just cheering on autopilot. "Thank you Santa." Neal said sincerely.

"You're most welcome, Neal. Don't forget to be a good boy for your dad next year." He'd been about to head away with his gift but Santa's comment gave him pause. He narrowed his eyes at the Big Guy but all he got in return was a "Ho! Ho! Ho!"

Neal made his way back to where his mum and dad were waiting patiently. "Look what I got for Christmas." He held up the certificate. "A new dad." Neal wrapped his arms around Peter's waist and lay his head against the older man's chest. "You know now I'm going to have pretty high expectations on Christmas morning when I open my presents. I got a new dad at the pre-Christmas party. What do I get for the real event?" The joke brought chuckles and El joined in the hug. Neal pulled away and looked up at his dad, "I guess I'm all yours now, Peter."

Peter crouched down so he was at eye level. "You've been mine for a very long time, Neal." Peter pulled him into a bear hug and when he stood, Neal came with him. The young boy's feet, lifting off the ground. "Nothing's going to change."

Peter, eventually returned Neal's feet to the floor. "Let me see that glove."

"It looks pretty…" Neal didn't really know what type of word was appropriate for describing a glove but fortunately he was saved by his new friend.

"Hey mean glove man!"

"Yeah… real mean?" Neal passed his gift to Jerry for a closer inspection.

"I got my glove and ball here, you want to try it out?" Amazingly, from out of nowhere, Jerry produced a well worn baseball mitt and one very used baseball.

"Ah…I'd like to but…I'm not sure how." Neal looked a little embarrassed.

"Nonsense." Peter's voice butted into the conversation. "Come on, I'll teach you." Peter began walking towards the far end of the hall, away from the end where the celebration was taking place and the two boys trailed closely behind.

Just before they were out of ear shot, El called out, "Nobody better smash a window Peter or you'll be answering to Santa."

Peter turned back and smiled, "Warning dully noted, Mom!"

El watched as off in the distance, Peter stood directly behind his son, helping him to position his arm correctly for catching and instructing on how to manipulate the mitt through the fingers. Neal caught on real fast and in no time, was into the full swing of tossing and catching. Peter stayed close, possibly to rein in wild throws before they came close to the windows but more likely to just be near his son and revel in the experience of teaching him something for the first time.

-W-C-

"What are we doing here? What is this building?" Neal scanned the alley for signs of anyone approaching but the coast was clear.

Mozzie looked over the top of his glasses while he twisted his little wire tools and made quick work of unlocking the fire escape exit. "For real? You don't recognise the building." The older kid looked insulted. "Let me refresh your memory. It's the one you always stop at on our walks. Every single time for the last three months we've been out for a stroll we just happen to walk by this building and you just happen to gaze up at it longingly before moving on. Ring any bells?" Moz raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah." Of course he knew it. "So what are we doing here?"

"Wait." Mozzie held out his hand to stop the boy from stepping any further into the room. Using a card scanner to decode the security set-up he easily disabled the alarm system.

Neal followed his friend through after being given the all clear signal. "Moz if I knew we were going out for a session of B&E I wouldn't have brought my dog!" Neal was beginning to lose his patience, fast. He held the puppy up into Mozzie's face as a not so subtle reminder that he was totally unprepared. He'd been at June's since lunch and Mozzie had swung by unexpectedly to walk him back. It was getting late and the kid was already overdue at home.

"We won't be long." Mozzie led the way into a large room filled with easels, paints, smocks, brushes and a varied collection of paintings in various stages of development. Clearly an art studio.

"Moz," Neal took a deep breath and sighed, "Why am I here?"

"I guess the real question, my young friend is, why are you not here?"

Neal put the puppy on the floor but held on tight to his lead. "Mozzie, you of all people should understand. I can't believe you're not on my side with this. Don't you see, I'd be like admitting defeat. Once I'm here I'm in the system. You'd be the first to rub it in. First this, then what? Uni? A job. That's not what we want. It's not for guys like you and I!"

"Neal, who are you trying to kid?" Mozzie sounded exasperated. "This is exactly what you want. Don't even bother telling me differently."

Neal picked up Satchmo and began to head for the door when he was pulled up by his friend. "Look Neal. It appears I haven't done the right thing by you and…I'm sorry. I do understand." The younger boy looked slightly less offended with that semi-apology but unfortunately he had taken Mozzie's confession the wrong way.

Moz put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Take a good look around man. If I'd been offered a placement here, I'd fly at the chance. But I wouldn't be offered one. I don't have the talent. I'm not you. You have an amazing gift, my young friend. It's incredible what you have and I believe one day you'll be a renowned artist. You're already a great artist. Just no one knows it yet." Mozzie shook his head. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you this already. I should have encouraged you earlier but it's just that you're a hard act to give up."

"I don't know Moz. I feel so unsure about it all." Neal seemed to take Mozzie's advice onboard and looked around at the paintings as he spoke. "Doing what I do with you guys, I know I'm good at it and I know where I stand. I don't know man, it's in my bl…."

Mozzie cut him off, "I swear if you tell me it's in your blood, I'm going to roll you in the paint and glue you to a canvas."

"Okay then. I wasn't going to say anything like that. Nothing even remotely in that vicinity." He smiled at his friend. "Are you still walking me home?"

"If you need me to." Mozzie reactivated the alarm and locked the fire escape as they made their way back out to the alley.

"No, I don't need you to." Neal looked slightly outraged.

"Fine. I'll catch you tomorrow."

"Thanks, Moz."

"Anytime." Mozzie headed off further down the alley and Neal made his way back out onto the main street to have a final look at the building.

After staring at 'Bayside Art College' for a long moment, he gently lowered his puppy to the ground. "Come on Satch, let's head." Neal proceeded to turn and make tracks in the direction of the subway but his path was blocked.

_Shit! The creep!_

"You let me down last night, Neal." The larger man shoved a finger into his chest. "You promised me you'd be there and then you were a no show. I went to a lot of trouble for nothing." The thug put a heavy hand on Neal's shoulder and began to squeeze. The young boy tried to pull away but the hold was like a vice grip. He could have screamed out but then there'd be too many questions to answer long after the episode was over. "Perhaps I didn't make myself clear." Tears began to escape from the corners of the young boy's eyes as he felt the pressure in his shoulder increase to an almost unbearable level. "The next time you pull out of one of our agreements, I'm going to pay your mommy and daddy a visit. Mom is doing so well in that little shop of hers on the Upper East Side. I'd hate for there to be any kind of fire although you can't be too sure with the unstable heating systems in some of those older buildings. And wouldn't it be a shame if Peter Piper didn't look both ways before crossing the road. What's his knock off time again? Five Thirty? No, don't worry your pretty little face. I'll work it out." Neal felt great relief as his shoulder was released but the respite was short lived. "I'll be seeing you again real soon, Neal." And with that, the young boy was left, with his puppy to ponder his future, standing in front of the art school while watching the retreating figure of a very different destiny.


	15. Chapter 15

Peter sat behind his desk staring at his son's back. Neal had been particularly quite since Friday night and had barely said a word since arriving at work this morning. The agent could see the slight trembling in the boy's hands as he tried to write. "Neal?" No response. "Neal?" The kid was zoning out again.

Agent Burke got up from his desk and moved over to crouch beside his young son. Removing the pen from his small fingers he asked, "What's up, Buddy? You've been slowly going downhill ever since the start of the weekend."

"I'm fine. Thank you for asking." Neal picked up the pen that Peter had removed and continued writing.

"Let me try again." Firmer this time. "Whatever happened on Friday is bothering you big time, so much so that you're letting it show. Please just tell me."

Neal put the pen down again and looked up into his father's eyes.

Peter's heart felt like it was being crushed at the fear he saw in the young boy's eyes. "What's wrong Neal? Tell me. I can help you. Whatever you've done, we'll find a way to sort it out. Trust me."

"Can you take me home?"

"Sure Buddy. Grab your jacket let's go."

-W-C-

The two men sat on the couch while Satchmo snoozed blissfully unaware at their feet. Peter had collected a couple of glasses of water and turned on the heat to warm up the room. It had all felt so cold when they first walked in.

Neal took a sip of water before beginning. "You know most of the details already." The young boy looked up to Peter for confirmation. His voice sounded very unsure and he appeared on the verge of breaking down. "I was working for Kate. Doing most of the art work for the bonds." The agent nodded and Neal continued." As well as other projects, which came to a grinding halt the minute you placed me under house arrest."

"It's not house arrest, Neal."

"That's right. I forgot I'm allowed to go to the corner store and walk the dog around the block," Neal replied sarcastically, some of the confidence had returned.

"Well… anyway…your cons have been closed down…and…?" Peter moved the confession along.

"I may have done something pretty major before you came into the picture." Neal glanced down, unable to look Peter in the eye.

"Like what?"

There was a long pause. "This is a bad idea!" Neal went to hop up off the couch but Peter grabbed his wrist before he could move away. "No Peter. Let me go! I need to work this out myself! Neal had begun to panic as the knots in his stomach twisted and turned.

"Neal." Peter's voice was calming and hypnotic. The young boy stopped struggling and he let Peter pull him back onto the couch. He wrapped a caring arm around Neal's shoulders and pulled him in close. "Neal. I want you to do something for me, please?"

The emotional teenager nodded.

"I want you to tell me a hypothetical story about a young boy, called…Nick… possibly twelve to fourteen years old. A little while back, Nick did something wrong and now he is in even more trouble, but a friend of his is trying very hard to protect him from getting in even deeper. Can you tell me Nick's story please?"

Neal pulled himself up on the couch so he was sitting facing Peter. He lifted his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them for security. "About eighteen months ago, a nice young lady named Kate came across a young boy who was practicing picking pockets outside the Rockefeller Center, just for the fun of it. Silly boy, eh?"

"Yeah."

"They got together a few times. Nick liked to hang around Kate. She was always a lot of fun and Nick enjoyed her company so he tried to find reasons to run into her as much as possible. Anyway, turns out this boy, Nick had many talents so Kate's boyfriend asked him to help him with a couple of simple cons. Nick wanted to spend time with Kate, he thought she was pretty sweet, so he happily agreed. Nick got paid, not much but it felt really good to be paid for something that was more like a game than actual work. It was a thrill for Nick, he was good at it. Maybe it was in his blood or something?"

Peter felt a shiver go up his spine.

"The cons got more serious and Nick took on a greater role in Kate's squad, eventually becoming her second. Nick was good at a lot of things. He could get into small places and into areas the bigger kids couldn't. He could go unnoticed for long periods of time. Be just about anyone Kate needed him to be, a chameleon of sorts. A missing son, a lost brother, an injured friend. It's amazing the places you can get into and the distractions you can create with a little creativity." Neal got lost in his thoughts again but Peter cleared his throat and the kid continued with his tale. "Of course, Nick needed other names, just in case the interested parties became slightly suspicious. The phony names were a good, 'let's get the hell out of here and cut our loses' plan for young Nick. Kate's boyfriend," Neal checked that Peter was paying particular attention to this, "Nick was a little frightened of Kate's boyfriend. Well, the boyfriend devised a con that involved stealing a Matisse from the Met. It was a great con, everything went according to plan, but sadly Nick chickened out at the last minute. After actually stealing the painting successfully, Nick had a moral moment of madness."

Peter leaned in close, finding the story more than a little mind-boggling. "What happened?"

Neal's mouth was completely dry so he took another long drink of water. "Nick overheard one of the Met security guards discussing with another how he was worried about his job because his little girl was sick and needed an operation and he couldn't afford to lose any more hours. Nick suspected that a stolen painting would do very little to ensure the guard's job security so he returned the painting to it's place where it hung near the fire escape before anyone noticed it missing."

"So what did Kate's boyfriend do? What was his name?"

"Keller. Matthew Keller. He was slightly annoyed."

"Slightly?"

"Yeah, I guess. "He went into a rage. When they got back to the rendezvous he threw Nick across the room and kicked him a few times before Kate intervened. Nick had to hide his injuries from his mom and friends for a week or so while his body returned to normal."

Peter's hatred of this guy went up several notches. He'd had Keller under his radar since Kate's arrest but his opinion of the scum hit an all time low.

"Keller told Nick that the Matisse was going to be his nest egg and if it took him his whole life, Nick was going to pay him back."

"So ever since, Nick has been running cons so he can pay back Keller? For eighteen months?"

"Yeah, for seventeen actually. You see about a month ago, Nick had all his operations closed down when he was put on under house arrest by an over-eager FBI Agent who ran out of real cases to tend to and began to rain down hell on a young innocent kid just making a quick buck."

"Nick's anything but innocent, my young friend!" Peter grinned happy to hear Neal gradually breaking out of his despondent frame of mind. "How much does Nick owe Keller or hasn't he put a price on his 'nest egg'."

"I don't know. It's a lot. Keller is always reminding Nick that he's still in debt and the kid doesn't have any choice but to pay up. Only now.." Neal's voice began to crack again. "Now Nick's funds have dried up, Keller is going to come after him with a vengeance. Nick's not so worried about himself though. Keller's a dangerous man Peter but he's not stupid. He won't take down Nick. He still wants to use Nick so he'll take down someone close and then make Nick do whatever he wants." Tears began to spill down Neal's cheeks.

There was a long silence and then Peter pulled Neal back in for a hug. "Do you know what today is Neal?"

"Monday?"

"Yes. But it's also the day that Nick begins to turn back into a kid." Neal raised his eyes in confusion. "You see, young Nick, somewhere along the way, forgot that he was a child. He forgot how to play in the park and ride his bike and shoot baskets with his dad because he had been playing an adult for pretty much his whole life and he couldn't remember how to get back." Peter smiled down at his young son. "But Nick was lucky because he had a new friend with very special powers and this new friend is trying awfully hard to turn Nick back into a child again. And he is going to use his special powers to send away anyone that is stopping Nick."

"That's a great story Peter, with a pretty cool ending," Neal wiped away his tears, "but it's the sort of ending that only happens in fairytales. I can't see Nick being that lucky. Besides, Nick doesn't believe in fairytales."

"Nick needs to trust his new friend, Neal. Do you think he can?"

Neal shrugged. "I think so Peter. Maybe he can." The young kid had an idea and smiled up at the agent. "I think Nick deserves to be released from house arrest… since he's buying into a certain level of trust with his new friend. He has one of those GPS tracking anklets. I'm sure you've heard of them, they're incredibly annoying…so I've heard."

"As soon as Nick completely turns back into a kid, he'll have his anklet taken off. It won't happen overnight. Nick is going to need a lot of guidance and reassurance and in a way, the tracker helps to accomplish that indirectly. So for the moment the tracker is for Nick's own good. But he should be confident that his friend is always looking out for him and will watch over him carefully while Nick learns to be a child again."

"Sounds like a good plan, Peter." Neal accepted with a little bit of hope in his voice.

"Great. In the meantime, someone should tell Nick to go watch the Star Wars Trilogy."

_Wow that came out of nowhere_. Neal's eyes displayed the puzzlement he felt. "Why."

Peter happily clarified. "Well, Nick has a similar problem to the main character Luke. You see, Luke is under the false assumption that he is too much like his father to be a good person. Everyone knows he's a good person, even though Aunt Beru says he has too much of his father in him and Uncle Owen agrees but they're not in it for much longer after that…anyway, everyone else…almost everyone else knows he's very special and he can help a lot of people with his special gifts…"

"Everyone except Luke?"

"Yeah, but it turns out Luke was wrong. He gets a lot of help from a small group of caring friends who battle the bad guys to rescue Luke, Luke ends up rescuing lots of people and in the end, Luke turns out to be the hero, and Neal…"

"Yeah?"

"Every story needs a hero."

-W-C-

El arrived home to Admiral Ackbar announcing, "It's a trap! Move the fleet away from the Death Star." Peter had his feet up on the coffee table and Neal was stretched out with his head resting on his dad's lap. Both were sound asleep. El walked over and switched off the TV. The suddenly lull in battle noise aroused Peter from his sleep. He carefully pulled himself out from under Neal's head and gave his wife a welcome home kiss.

"Quite a party you had here." El indicated the popcorn spread throughout the living room in almost in every corner and crevice. There was an empty pizza box sharing the coffee table with a couple of abandoned soda cans. And the discarded DVD cases of the Star Wars Trilogy were lying on the floor in front of the telly.

"Yeah. It was quite the day." Peter spoke quietly as to not wake the sleeping boy. He took his wife's hand and gave her the 'we need to talk privately' look.

Without saying a word, she took Peter's hand and led the way up to their bedroom.

Peter sat on the bed with his wife and proceeded to fill her in on the details of Keller and the hold he had over their son. "We thought we had Keller last Thursday night but maybe it was bad Intel or something because he didn't show. Since Kate, we've arrested two more of this little gang, both underage of course. They were only small fry and neither kid was prepared to rat on Keller. He's either got them too frightened to talk or the kids' think he's some untouchable champion of their cause. Each time we get close, he moves on. We've been tracking Neal's phone but Keller is very careful. Burn phones, public phones without surveillance cameras, he contacts Neal through a friend. I put a tail on Neal, that's how we caught the last guy. I think Keller got to Neal last Friday night though. Neal was with Mozzie when the two boys slipped the tail. I don't think Neal was even aware we had an agent tailing him. Anyway, somehow Keller made contact for sure. He's a slippery bastard."

"Is there any genuine threat to Neal? How dangerous is this Keller? Would he consider harming Neal?"

"Until this is over, I'm leaving an agent with Neal at all times. I'm not taking any chances. Keller is unstable, he's a loose cannon and until we bring him down," Peter took both of his wife's hands in his, "I'm not wanting to worry you El but you and Neal need to take extreme care."

"How long will this go on for Peter? It's very frightening." El had the tears which made Peter even more determined.

"It won't be long El. I'm going to go after this son-of-a-bitch with extreme prejudice." He pulled El in and they both gave each other a hug of reassurance.

Unfortunately for El and Peter, the young boy had awoken on the couch and arrived at the second floor landing in good time to hear his dad's declaration. And being just a child, without the wisdom of an adult, Neal made a vow himself, to take care of _his_ problem, before any one in his family was put in harms way due to something he had begun. Neal thought of a plan. A very brave plan. A very stupid plan. A plan that only a child with the weight of the world on his shoulder would devise. A plan that only a child like Neal Caffrey would even consider.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note:** Just a little story, if you have a moment. Not too long ago I published my first fic. It wasn't something I had intended to do but I got all caught up in some crazy thoughts and before I knew it, a short story had evolved. At the time of publishing, I had a quick squiz to see if I could disable the review button. I was already very nervous about putting my story out there to be read and the last thing my nerves needed was to get feedback saying a word was spelt incorrectly, or the fic wasn't grammatically correct, or the characters were off the mark. All these worries crossed my mind and so I cautiously posted my story during the weekend as I suspected it had more chance of been knocked off the number one spot faster than through the week. Then I nervously awaited the first review, if there was to be one, which there was. And it was a positive review and I became all excited. My smile didn't waiver for an entire day. Someone liked the story. And they even thought the story was funny. Which made me laugh because I posted the story under the angst category! Anyway, after not getting any negative feedback from the first fic and feeling pretty damn good about the reviews I had received, I gave a couple more fics a shot and was once again so very thrilled to get more positive feedback. Which leads to me this story, My Son Neal. The reviews have become an addiction for me. I can't wait to get home from work to see if there are any reviews and I get so excited when the mail icon flashes with a new message. I feel like I know some of the readers on the other end of the internet and in a way, it's like they're sending back their own little story to me, piece by piece. Where's this not so short little story going? I just wanted to let all the readers know who left feedback for this fic what it meant to me and how very kind and thoughtful you all were. And maybe to ask, what on earth I'm going to do, come Monday after work when I switch on the computer and the message icon is empty! Damn It! Hope you enjoy the final chapter. Cheers.

**My Son Neal**

Early Tuesday morning, Peter sat on Neal's bed. The kid was sleeping soundly and looked so young and innocent with his loveable little face pressed contentedly against the black satin pillow case. How could so much trouble be wound up in such a little bundle? Peter put a hand on the young boy's arm and shook gently. "Neal?'

The kid woke up at once and rubbed at his sleepy eyes. "Peter?"

"Sorry to wake you, Buddy. I've got to leave for work in a minute but I need to have a little chat with you before I go."

"Sure." Neal sat up, leaning on his elbow for support. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. I need you to do something for me." The young boy nodded in understanding. "Do you trust me Neal?"

"Of course." _More than anyone I've ever known._

"Then listen to me carefully. I want you to stay at home today okay. Watch TV, read a good book, paint a picture. Order in if you like but please don't leave the house. Can you do that for me?"

"Why? What's going on?"

"Keller was caught on surveillance video outside the Bureau Plaza last night. But I don't want you to worry. We're going to get him and put him away for a very long time, but for now, I need you to stay here with your mom and trust that my team and I will take care of the situation."

"I'm sure you will Peter."

"Thanks, Neal." Peter climbed off the bed and stepped towards the door. "Oh by the way, there's an agent downstairs. He's going to hang around here and just keep an eye on things while I'm out today. Okay son? Stay out of trouble."

"Yeah." _Highly unlikely._

-W-C-

That very afternoon, Neal stood outside the Bayside Art College, preparing to implement the next stage of his plan.

"Hey, man. Thought I might catch you here."

Neal was not at all surprised to hear his best friend's voice. "How's it going, Moz?"

"Not too bad." Mozzie took in the pensive look in the young boy's eyes and the way he was absorbed in gazing up at the ornate building which stood before them. "You okay, man? What you are you thinking about?"

Not stopped staring and turned to look determinedly at his friend. "I'm thinking Moz that enough is enough. There comes a time in every guy's life when they have to be accountable for their actions and for better or worse, that's what I plan to do."

"Wow, man. You scare me when you get all crazy and bent on fixing everything that's wrong with the world. Have you learnt nothing? It never ends well."

"Well it's going to end, today in fact."

"Please tell me this has nothing to do with the creep. He's a dangerous man. Surely you're not thinking of paying him a visit or anything equally as brainless?" Mozzie pushed his glasses further up his face as though the action would enable him to see better into the young boy's line of thinking.

"That's exactly what I'm going to do."

"Oh Neal." Moz sighed deeply. "That's a really bad idea and as your best friend, I couldn't in good conscious let you go."

"Well lucky for you conscious, it's not going to involve you at all." Neal turned and stepped onto a city bus that had pulled up at the stop adjacent to the art college. "Everything's going to be fine, Moz. I'm going to take care of everything."

Mozzie started to make a move but the bus took off while he was still getting his head around Neal's latest crazy stunt. He watched as the bus pulled out into traffic and mentally kicked himself for not grabbing the kid and chaining him to the nearest fire hydrant. _'I should have stopped him. Could have, would have, should have…_' Mozzie pulled out his phone and sent a text. 'Neal dnt b stupid. Get off bus. Creep is dangerous.'

Within seconds a reply came through which sent a nervous tremble through Mozzie's entire body. 'Dnt wrry Moz. Nt stupid. Nt going without protection.'

Mozzie fumbled through his preset number list but his fingers were shaking, slightly sweaty and his heart was thumping uncontrollably. Finally, he found the number.

"Hello."

"Suit?"

"Who's this?"

"That's not important. I have…"

"Is that you Mozzie?" Peter had become used to his son's friend's quirky ways. While he'd yet to be invited to dinner, Mozzie was at the wedding for crying out loud and was around enough for Peter to recognize the voice.

"Yeah. Suit. I have some information about Neal."

"What about Neal?" Peter didn't have time for this today. "Spit it out Mozzie."

The friend took a deep breath, "I regretfully inform you that Neal is off the reservation and going after Keller."

_What? No way._ "Damn it. I told him to trust me."

Mozzie braced himself for the thunder he was about to hear through the phone as he passed on a more critical piece of information, "But that's not the worse part….he has a gun."

-W-C-

"Jones!" Peter bellowed at the top of his voice. "Get an agent up here. Sit them in front of this screen. Tell them not to take their eyes off the dot. They're going to relay Neal's location through to you. Got it?"

"Yeah, Boss." Jones was corralling an agent before Peter had even completed his instructions.

"Diana," Peter grabbed his jacket, keys, guns and was all but running to the door. Diana and Jones were only steps behind. "Get McMahon on the phone and have him please explain why he was unsuccessful in supervising one teenage delinquent."

"Yes, Boss."

-W-C-

The young boy climbed up the empty crates and cautiously looked through the smudged glass window into the dingy, dilapidated warehouse. Two guys dressed in jeans and tight black t-shirts maneuvered equipment and played around with dials and buttons on the machinery. They were printing something and Neal had a pretty good idea what. Another large lump of a man walked into view carrying a wad of paper and dumped it down on the table next to the printing machine before stepping back out again. None of the men were Keller so the teenager sat down on the crate and waited in the bitter cold. Luckily, he didn't have too much time to kill. Less than ten minutes later, Kate's boyfriend came out of a little office at the back of the large room shouting instructions at his goons. It was a sure signal for the young boy to implement the final stage of his plan.

Neal carefully unlocked the warehouse side door and stepped inside to the semi-dark corridor. He retrieved the pistol from his satchel and removed the safety. He may have been a novice but he'd spent the morning Googling instructions on the internet after he misappropriated Peter's spare gun from the wall safe inside his parent's wardrobe.

He could hear the creep barking instructions as he approached the main room. _'Enough is enough, Keller,' _the young boy whispered to himself.

Neal burst through the door, lifted the gun and fired. The bullet missed, by a country mile and the force behind the shot sent the young boy flying backwards onto his butt, the menacing weapon spiraling out his little hand and across the filthy concrete floor. _Great._

Keller came and stood over the boy, laughing. He picked him up by his shirt and lifted him fair off the ground. "So glad you could drop by. We could do with another hand." The thug had an evil smile on his face as he planted the boy back on his feet.

"I told you I'm not doing it anymore, Kelly you creep!" Neal shouted into his face.

Keller grabbed the back of the young boy's neck and slammed his head down onto a nearby table. "How many times have I told you not to call me that?"

Neal was hurting. He couldn't tell if it was from the force Keller was continuing to apply to the back of his neck, or the pain from where his face was being pressed into the table, or the sharp pain emanating from the gash that had been caused when his head collided with something sharp on the hard surface. He only knew it was a gash because he could feel wetness slowly seeping between his face and the table. "Which name? Kelly or creep? Neal knew the rat hated both, with a passion.

Keller was satisfied with the physical pain he was applying to the cocky kid so he thought he'd throw in a bit of emotional discomfort. "Where's your girlfriend now, _Pip_ Squeak?"

"She's not my girlfriend." Neal tried to sound menacing but it was hard to be taken seriously while your head was being squeezed like a lemon.

"That's funny. I was pretty sure that you were utterly captivated under her spell. You and I both know you only ever did 'your thing' to impress her." Keller leant in real close and whispered. "Oh she was impressed alright. She thought you were adorable. She was just like kid with a favourite toy."

Neal somehow managed to get his neck loose from Keller's grip and spun around throwing a punch in the older guy's direction. Keller deflected it easily, laughing away the pitiful attempt. He gave a signal for one of his off-siders to approach. "Got cojones on this one. Get rid of the bag, no telling what Peter Piper has planted in it to keep an eye on his little mouse."

"No! I need my gear from inside it!" Neal watched in horror as one of the goons collected the bag from where Neal had dropped it right after he fired the shot. "Please, I can't do any of my work without the equipment in my bag!" Neal struggled to go after it with zero success.

"Nonsense, we have everything you need right here." The lanky thug walked out the warehouse carrying the young boy's treasured satchel. As Neal watched it disappear from sight, he felt for all the world like someone had just removed his heart.

"All righty then." Keller continued to hold the young boy by his upper arm. "What's it going to be Pip Squeak? Are you going to work off your debt or am I going to start breaking your fingers one by one and then casually make my way over to Federal Plaza to see if I can catch a piper crossing the road?"

-W-C-

Peter pulled the car into reverse before the junior agents were even fully seated. Seat belts were highly recommended.

"Boss?"

"Yeah?"

"I just got off the phone to Elizabeth. She's in a bit of a state."

"Why didn't you call McMahon like I asked!" Peter had no time for incompetence this afternoon.

"I did call McMahon. Elizabeth picked up his phone."

Peter gave Diana an alarmed look. "Is everyone okay?"

"Yeah. Well…"

"Just tell me already." _I promise I won't push you out of a moving car._ "What happened?"

"Elizabeth found Agent McMahon handcuffed to a fixture in Neal's bedroom. His mouth was taped up and when Elizabeth checked the safe, it was open and your gun had been removed."

"So did McMahon give any description of the suspect?" Peter was so not hoping his son had accosted a federal agent.

"Yeah, Peter. It was Neal."

-W-C-

The Taurus screeched to a halt outside a run down warehouse minutes later. Peter all but jumped out while the car was still running before being reined in by Jones. "Peter!" The junior agent put a firm hand on the older agent's shoulder.

Agent Burke swung back around, affronted by the restriction. "What?"

"You're not going to be any good to your son if you get a bullet through your chest before you even put one step inside. Put on the vest." Jones handed a Kevlar vest to his superior. The other agents, including the ones from the second vehicle had suited up on the way.

"Thanks, Jones." Peter had needed that minute to pull himself together. He'd had very little experience in rescuing a wayward son, packing a gun, going after a lunatic so it had probably caught him off guard. "Okay." Peter spoke to the group huddled close. "Keller's got my son in there. Let's go get the bastard and bring Neal home safely to him mom."

-W-C-

Two agents after getting the all clear, pulled back the battering ram and slammed open the door.

"FBI!"

Keller grabbed Neal and pulled him to his chest. "Come a step closer Burke and your kid is dead". Keller held the gun barrel to Neal's temple as he stepped away from the agents next to the demolished front door. Keller's three heavies immediately threw their hands in the air, realizing quickly that without the shielding of one lone child, they were open slather for the array of FBI guns pointed in their direction. They were shouted orders to lie face down on the ground with their hands behind their heads which they complied to swiftly.

Keller, still holding Neal close, took a tentative step towards the rear entrance. Evidently, it was Keller's intention to use Neal as a shield until he was clear of the FBI and then what? Dispose of the child. Peter knew it wouldn't end well.

"Neal." Peter spoke in a soft, caring tone. "Look at me Neal." After a long moment, Neal lifted his eyes away from the chaos taking place in the room and focused on Peter. "Neal,Fermez vos yeux et vos oreilles couvrir une en moi." Neal continued staring at the agent who stood firm and certain, two qualities far removed from the feelings the young boy felt. Neal was beyond terrified and had to dig deep to indeed trust the man who was standing across the room pointing a gun surely in his direction. But the frightened child did as the agent asked, almost on autopilot as he closed his eyes and reached his hands up to cover his ears. Neal then promptly drifted off to a place that was far away from the chaos of the room, from the terrifying position he found himself currently in and instead into a land of picnics and fishing trips, of family excursions to the city's museums and art galleries, to a warm room of movies with popcorn and soda, to crossing over New York Harbor in a ferry with the chilly autumn breeze blowing in his face, to Christmas time with delicious food, singing and lots of holiday cheer. He found the place he always wanted to be in and his brain made a subconscious decision to stay there forever.

"Neal. Neal, Buddy?" Neal hadn't realised he had drifted so far from his current reality until he felt Peter shaking his shoulder gently. He felt Peter lift him up from his position on the ground and cradle him in his arms. He felt Peter use his suit jacket to wipe something off his face and hair. He felt Peter lifting him up as the agent stood himself and he felt the cool breeze of the open air as they walked outside the warehouse. Only then did Peter say, "You can open your eyes now, Buddy. Everything is going to be okay."

Neal lifted his head off Peter's shoulder and blinked at the bright sunlight. He didn't say anything as his dad carried him to the Taurus and gently lowered him into the passenger seat. Peter reached across and did up the buckle before reaching into the back seat and grabbing a throw rug which he wrapped around his young boy. "Let's go home, son."

-W-C-

Peter carried the young boy up to the master bedroom and laid him on the king bed. El unbuttoned the boy's shirt and replaced it with a soft clean t-shirt. Peter retrieved a warm damp cloth and once again wiped at a couple of spots on the kid's head. Neal lay still on the bed and didn't utter a word as his parents fussed over him.

"I'm going to call Andy," Peter stated after tossing the damp cloth onto the dresser.

-W-C-

Peter stood staring at the beautiful painting hanging in the master bedroom. A family portrait. A frozen moment in time. He longed for that moment. El had an angelic smile and was clearly enjoying the occasion. Peter thought he was depicted younger in the painting, not so many blemishes as he noticed in real life. In the scene, El and he sat together in a park. Of course he had seen this portrait in its early development. Thinking it was just going to be of El and himself, he hadn't realised it was missing an important addition. He didn't get to see the complete picture until the day before the wedding and was delighted to see the inclusion of the young boy, leaning over the top of the two adults, one arm around each parent's shoulder. He had a cheeky grin, the type of grin that could get someone out of even the stickiest of situations. The painting had been a wedding gift for his mom, and she treasured it more that any present she'd ever received. It held a very special place in their bedroom for every day, as El got out of bed, it reminded her to say a prayer of thanks for the incredible family she was so fortunate to have.

"Peter?" The agent felt his wife's hands on his arm bringing him back to the here and now. He turned to El who had more tears threatening to escape from the corner of her eyes. "What's happening?" Peter looked over at his friend Andy who was stitching up the gash on the young boy's forehead. Neal, for his part, lay unmoving with his arms by his side, staring up at the ceiling, having not whispered a single word since Peter picked him up off the warehouse floor. "I don't understand. Neal can't even handle a flu shot. He throws a hissy fit if I try to put a band-aid on him and he hasn't made a single complaint about Andy sticking the needle through his skin. What's going on, Peter?"

Peter put a gentle hand on the side of El's face. "He's just in shock, honey. But he'll be okay, I promise."

Andy came and joined the couple and spoke in the same hushed tones that the parents were using. "It's not unexpected. The events of today have been very traumatic for him and his little brain is working overtime, trying to manage an overload of messages. As a coping mechanism, he's shut down. Hopefully he'll snap out of it shortly. As soon as his brain makes the connection that the situation is now under control." Andy glanced back at his patient before continuing. "The gash on his head isn't too severe and didn't need too many stitches. He doesn't have concussion but it's still important that you keep a close eye on him tonight. I'm going to give him a shot to help him relax, otherwise he might start to panic and stress as he becomes more alert."

"He doesn't like shots." El's thoughts were going all over the place.

"It's okay Elizabeth. I'll be gentle."

The three adults returned to the bed while Andy prepared the injection. Peter sat on the opposite side to the doctor and El wrapped her arms over the top of her husband while standing behind him.

"Okay Neal." Andy squeezed the syringe slightly to release any air pockets. "I'm going to give you a little shot to help you sleep well tonight." The doctor wiped an antibacterial cloth across the top of the young boy's arm. The kid didn't even flinch. "Do you understand, Neal?" Andy wasn't expecting a response but it was good practice to continue talking to the patient, in any case, he knew Neal could hear him.

"Every story needs a hero, Dr Bryant."

_Where did that come from?_ Andy had been about to apply the needle but stopped and looked at Neal's face. The young boy was still staring at the ceiling. The doctor looked over at Peter who just raised his eyebrows in response. Andy continued with the injection. "So who's the hero of this story young Neal?"

For the first time since being placed on the bed, Neal moved his head and rested his eyes on Peter. "Dad, of course." Then he reached out with his free arm and grabbed a hold of his father's hand and squeezed. "Thank you, Dad. Thank you for coming to get me."

Peter squeezed Neal's had back. "It was no trouble at all, son… I love you, you know."

"I love you too, Dad."

Dr Bryant collected his gear and left three extremely emotional people to battle through possibly a very sleepless night. Maybe he should have given them all a shot?

Fourteen hours later, Neal finally awoke, thirsty, hungry and sore, snuggled under the comforter in the king sized bed, securely between his parents who looked like they were totally out to it, while one loving little puppy sat on the end of the bed, watching guard over the family.

-W-C-

One week later and life was gradually returning to normal. Peter had Neal stay away from the office while the agent got his head around the recent events and considered options for the young boy's future. With Kate out of the picture and Keller... gone...agents weren't trained to maim and even if they were, well the guy had a gun to his son's head and that was a good enough reason in anyone's book, with Keller gone, could the teenager be trusted to start living a life within the law? Could he afford to remove the tracker? Would there be any other temptations too great for the impulsive teen to refuse? He was staring at Neal's empty desk when Reece Hughes walked in carrying a very familiar looking khaki satchel. "Recognise this, Peter?"

"Yeah, maybe." Peter joked. Anyone who worked at the unit would recognise the well worn bag as belonging to one Neal Caffrey. "Where'd it come from?" Peter was amazed to see the bag. Neal had been extremely depressed about the loss of his beloved satchel which he explained had been disposed of by one of Keller's henchmen.

"It just came across my desk. Seems it's been floating around down at NYPD for the past few days. Someone handed it in when they realized it had a police badge inside."

_René's? _"So why'd it get sent to you?"

"Someone went through the bag and they recognized your photo amongst the interesting collection of bits and pieces inside. They thought you might know something about it since there was no ID."

"There's a good chance I might." Hughes gave Peter a rare smile and left his agent to take care of the recovered treasure.

Peter opened the bag. He felt guilty but it wouldn't be right to return it to the child without an inspection of the contents. Who knew where it had been or whether anything had been added to the bag since it was misplaced.

A quick inspection revealed the agent's little stolen note book. _Unbelievable!_ How long since he'd returned to his car to find his notebook missing? Almost a year. He flipped through the book and of course the page with the number plate hastily scrawled had been removed. _Little devil!_ And what the hell was he still doing carrying it around? After that the find, the guilt had dispersed so he upended the satchel and tipped its contents out onto his office desk.

There weren't too many items but a couple grabbed Peter's attention. René's NYPD badge. Peter had never seen a photo of Neal's father which was not surprising. It wasn't like El needed any reminders. The guy didn't look a lot like Neal. Apparently the kid had taken after his mother. The badge had lost its shine and Peter suspected it had been pulled in and out of its folder many times in the past ten years.

Peter picked up the photo. The one that had led to the satchel's return. It must have been taken with Neal's camera phone because the agent never remembered a shot being taken in the office. It must have been done covertly. In the picture, Peter was standing at the end of the long table in the briefing room, one hand on his hips, one holding a folder. There were a couple of agents in the foreground with their back to the camera. It was a good photo. Peter liked it but he wasn't sure why Neal was carrying it around.

The agent picked up a yellowed piece of newspaper that had been carefully cut from a local paper. It was an article about El's new business and had a particularly sweet photo of his wife standing proudly in front of the new shop window that read, Burke Premier Events.

There was also letter from Kate which he returned to the pile before reading and then found amongst the collection a small black folder with fine metal tools. _'I wonder what this is for?_' he thought sarcastically to himself. That item went straight into his desk draw.

Neal's photocopied adoption certificate was folded amongst the array of other mementos now lying across the agent's desk.

And then of course in every little treasure collection there's always the gem. The crown jewels of the find. It was only tiny but size was not every thing where stolen treasures were concerned. From the bottom of the pile, Peter picked up a little item that caused him to plant his face into both of his palms while shaking his head. He found a spare key to what could only be, Neal's electronic monitoring anklet!

-W-C-

Agent Burke pulled up at the children's park. Across the field he spotted his son, tossing the baseball with proficiency and confidence. Peter suspected that Neal had the talents to do anything easily that he ever tried in his life. One of the lucky few in this world for which that would be the case. He beeped the horn gaining the attention of both boys. He watched as Jerry pulled his bike up off the ground and rode off in the opposite direction. Neal collected his jacket and jogged back to greet his dad.

The young boy opened the front door and stopped with bewilderment when he identified his cherished satchel sitting on the passenger seat. He glanced up at Peter for an explanation but was too frightened to touch the bag least it burst the bubble. "Where did you find it?"

"Long story. Hop in."

Neal nursed his bag while he buckled in. They took off for home and Peter explained during the journey about how the satchel managed to find its way home. Neal was impressed but also concerned about what the agent may have discovered amongst his personal possessions. They were yet to have 'the talk' regarding the events of last Tuesday and Neal wasn't silly enough to bring it up. He suspected Peter was allowing time for him to heal emotionally as well as physically before sitting down to have a discussion about his many transgressions. It was a long list and would take some time to work through but Neal knew the conversation would come to pass, eventually. And now, Peter could add a copied anklet key to the list. Neal sighed, _in for a penny, in for a pound._

Peter looked over at the young boy deep in thought and considered that hopefully things were stable enough for him to ask a question he'd been desperate to know the answer to. "Neal?'

"Yeah?"

"Why did you try to take on Keller yourself? Why didn't you trust me?"

Neal looked out the window, ashamed. After a long moment of staring at the traffic he turned back to his dad. "I knew what Keller was like. I'd spent a lot of time with him and I knew he wouldn't really harm me. But I was worried about what he might do to you." Neal took a deep breath before adding. "I couldn't lose you Peter. I never want anything to happen to you. I was frightened Keller was going to take you away from me."

Peter took a while to respond to his son. He was too busy concentrating on fighting off a few stray tears that were threatening to escape. The car had stopped at a set of lights and Peter placed a caring hand atop of the young boy's head. Eventually, he was able to reply. "My little man, you still have a lot to learn…Don't you know anything?…Heroes live forever."

-W-C-

Agent Burke escorted his son up the stairs and through the grand entrance of the Bayside Art College. Neal had never been through the front door before. Peter spotted the principal at the far end of the room and he approached her, unaware that his kid had stopped to check out some of the pieces of art work just inside the door.

"Hello again, Peter. I'm so happy you were able to come today. Where is he?"

Peter looked first at his side and then back towards the entrance. Across the large studio he spotted his son admiring a young female student's painting of a desert sunset. "Hey Buddy!" He gave the boy the two finger point.

"Coming Dad." Neal strolled over to stand beside his father.

"Principal Belding," Peter proudly put his arm around the young boy's shoulders. "This is…my son Neal."


End file.
